To Love is to Live
by Naphrine
Summary: The Phantom notices a sad young woman,Darcy,who works as a maid at the opera populaire. His kindness leads to letter writing between them. And soon she finds herself in love with her penpal, never knowing he is the Phantom. What happens when she finds out
1. Flashbacks

Author Note: I do not own Phantom of the Opera. But the plot and other charactors are mine.

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\_I sit on mother's lap, listening to her tell me one of her stories that I so dearly love to hear. I hear the crackling of the fire; I feel its warmth upon my skin.  
__  
__Outside it is snowing. I see the little snowflakes falling from the window. _

_I snuggle closer to mother. She smells like violets, I breathe in deeply oh how I love that scent.  
__Father is sitting in his favorite rocking chair by the fire, nodding off to sleep, his pipe is in his hands, which are resting on his lap.  
__My brothers are playing with their new train set on the Persian rug.  
__Mother smoothes down my dark, wavy hair, and kisses me on the forehead.  
__I look up at her and smile. She smiles back. _

"_It is bed time Darcy". She lifts me up gently in her arms and carries me to my room.  
_"_I'm not sleepy".  
_"_Hush child, all good little girls are in bed".  
__She pulls back the coverlet and lays me down.  
_"_Now say your prayers," I say them aloud.  
__She tucks me in and kisses me once again on the forehead._

"_Go to sleep". Mother blows out the candle by my bed. She walks out slowly and closes the door behind her._

_It is dark, but I am not afraid. I know that my parents are nearby. I drift off to sleep, lulled by the strong wind blowing through the trees. _

_A bright light glowing from outside my window suddenly awakes me.  
__There are voices. They grow louder and louder. Men are shouting._

_Mama comes in. "Get up! Hurry ,**Hurry**!  
_"_What's wrong?"  
__Mother grabs me by the arms and drags me out of bed. She puts my robe on me.  
__I feel nervous, almost panicky. "What's wrong"? _

_Mother puts her finger over her lips. "Shhhh, you must be quite."  
__Father comes in. His eyes are wide with fear. Even in the dark I can see them shining.  
__He picks me up. I wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face in his jacket._

"_Go, Now!" Mother sounds frantic._

_Father carries me out the back door and puts me upon one of the horses. We ride into the woods. I look back at mother standing in the doorway. There is fear on her face. Why? Why is she frightened? _

_We are deep into the woods now. Father sets me down.  
_"_Stay right here. I'll be back".  
_"_No! Don't leave me, Please!" He does not hear me. He is gone._

_The dark forest seems to close in around me, coming closer and closer, until I feel like I will suffocate in its darkness.  
_"_Come back! Do not leave me alone! Please!"  
_

I wake up suddenly, breathing hard. Tears are streaming down my face.

It was just a nightmare, but at one time, it was not. It is a memory from my past. Well I have not time to think about that now.  
Later, perhaps tonight, if I am not too tired, I will face those painful memories; those nightmares.

I sit up on my bed, which is just a small cot. My room is a small basement like space. It is about 8 x 8. The irregular pentagon shape of my room makes it seem a lot smaller.

I light a candle so I can see. The clock beside my bed shows it is 4:00 am  
Time for me to get up and get dressed. I reach over and turn of the alarm before it rings, which will be in about ten minutes.  
I have to be downstairs in the hall entrance at exactly 5:00 am; Madame Bourg does not tolerate tardiness.

I go over to the little washbasin in the corner of my small dark little room. The water is very cold. It does not bother me;' I am used to using cold water.

I wash and dry my face, then study me reflection in the mirror.

The face staring back is not exactly what one would call beautiful.  
Interesting, that is how someone had summed up my looks.  
My eyes are the only extraordinary feature I have. They are large and a very light, unusual green. My skin is an olive complexion, not the pale look that is so fashionable among the women.  
I do not look my nineteen years. Most people assume that I am a lot younger.  
I am also tall for a woman; just a little over five foot, seven inches.

I take down my long wavy hair from its braid. My gift from mother. She had the same dark, heavy hair. "From the Gypsies" she would tell me. My grandmother is a Gypsy.  
It takes a while to comb it out, but finally I am done. I twist my unruly hair into a bun and pin it up, as high as I could.

I glance at my maid uniform lying on the chair beside the washbasin.  
It looks like all the other maid dresses. Black with a large white apron. I have been working as a maid in the Populaire for about six months.

I remove my nightgown and put on all the nessaries before slipping on my dress.

I pick up the little lace cap that has fallen to the floor. Carefully I pin it over my hair.  
_There, I am now ready to go down._

It is now 4:35 am. I have just enough time to stop by the kitchen and grab something to eat.

I arrive in the hall ten minutes early. The hall is dark, lit by only a few candelabras.  
Some of the other girls are already there.

Madame Bourg enters the hall. She is a grim-looking woman who oversees the cleaning of the Opera Populaire.  
She is very criticizing and watches every move we make. One small mistake and your job is over. All the maids hold her in mortal dread.

Madame Bourg dislikes me greatly, though I never could understand why.  
She makes sure she assigns me tasks the are strenuous and difficult or take the longest to complete.

Madame Bourg walks over and stands directly in front me. Her grey eyes are as cold as steel. I return the look. _I will not let her intimadate me. _

"Darcy LeClerc, your assignment will be the ballroom. I expect it to be cleaned to my satisfaction and in a timely manner." Her voice is cold and harsh.

Anger surges through me. _That is not fair! You cannot do this to me! How can you be so cruel? What have I ever done to make you hate me so? __For one person to clean a room of that size, in the few short hours I will be allotted, is impossible. _

I watch as she assigns the others, two by two, less arduous tasks. It takes all my strength to restrain the impulse to choke her, to tell her what I think of her.

The ballroom is massive and ornately designed. I glance around at the beautiful marble floors, the large staircase, the intricate carving and statues. It looks different than it did before the fire. I have seen its previous glory in pictures.

I walk over to the stairs and lean against the banister. I feel the tears forming in my eyes.  
_I hate that woman! That miserable, pathetic creature. _

Most of my life I have been treated unkindly; except by my parents and a few others.

I straighten with a sigh and wipe the tears away. _I better get started now if I expect to be done on time. _

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**Please read and review. Let me know if I should continue this story.**

**You can tell that Darcy has had a rough life. Poor Girl. More of her background is to be revealed.**


	2. Act of Kindess

-1**Note: Thanks for all the reviews. Please keep them coming. **

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**As the Phantom watches the girl clean the ballroom, an emotion stirs within him, one that he as never really felt before, one that is hard to identify.  
****Could it be that he feels pity for her? **

**The head mistress, Madame Bourg, treats the girl with deliberate cruelness and harshness. **

**Perhaps that is why he pities her; because she is sad and lonely, because she as experienced how cruel people can be. _Like me._**

**Day after day, she would do her assignments without complaints, but sometimes with tears streaming down her face.  
****Maybe there is someway he could help her, make her load lighter.**

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About half way through with my task, Madame Bourg bursts into the room.  
She is breathing hard, as if she has been running.

"Come with me and hurry!" she pants.

I just stand there staring at her, speechless. _Have I done anything wrong? Perhaps she expected me to me done by now, maybe it is not cleaned up to her standards. Oh God, I don not want to lose my job!  
_My heart feels as if it will leap out of my chest.

"Do not stand gawking at me like some idiot. Come on!" Madame Bourg shouts.

I come out of my abstraction in enough time to follow her out into the entrance hall, then into the auditorium, I then follow her up onto the stage.

The whole stage is a mess. There are several props that appear to have fallen; pieces of glass, masks, and other various items are strewn across the stage. A few of the dancers are rubbing their legs, as if they were hurt.  
The Prima Donna is complaining in a loud, whiny voice; her managers look as if they are trying to calm her down, to no avail.

"These "accidents" occur far too often. I will not stay here a moment more. You had better start looking for a new Prima Donna". She complains

"What happened?" I ask the frightened conductor.

I…uh… the props fell down…then…

"One of the stagehands fell asleep, instead of watching the props as he was suppose to do. He fell against a lever, and the props came falling down." Madame Giry, the ballet teachers, interrupts.

"Were any injured?" I ask.

"No, not seriously. They are just frightened." Madame Giry points to a few of the dancers who are being comforted by her daughter, Meg.

"You do not have time to stand there talking. Now, help clean up this mess." Madame Bourg orders.  
I obey, picking up the broken glass and masks, and putting them in a large trash bin, that has been brought up on stage.

My mind wonders back to what the Prima Donna said, about the accidents occurring often. I assume she was referring to "accidents" that are caused by The Phantom.

I have not really heard much about him; except that he caused the fire that nearly destroyed the Opera Populaire and various accidents when his orders are disobeyed. There seems to be a reluctance to mention him, and those who do speak of him, do so fearfully, looking over their shoulders as if they expect to see his shadow creep up behind them.

Suddenly a sharp pain in my hand causes me to cry out.  
I look down, a large sharp piece of glass is protruding from my right hand; it is bleeding heavily.

"Why have you stopped working?" Madame Bourg demands, "You really are the laziest and most exasperating girl."

I show her my hand" I have cut it on some glass", I explain.

"Really, you should be more careful and pay attention to your work. Go to Dora and let her treat it. Then after that, I want you to finish the assignment I gave you." Madame Bourg waves a dismissal.

I go off in search of Dora, the nurse who treats the wounds of those at the Opera Populaire.

By the time, I find her, my apron, which I wrapped around my hand, is stained with blood.

"Good heavens child, what happened?" Dora asks, looking over her spectacles.

"I cut my hand on a piece of glass".

"Come here, and let me take a look."

I walk over to her; she unwraps the apron and examines my hand. "It is very bad, and your right hand too. Well it will need some stitches."  
I close my eyes in pain, as she removes the glass and stitches the wound closed.

I thank her and leave to complete my job, which will now be more difficult to finish.

I let out a loud sigh as I enter into the ballroom, dreading what lay ahead.

I stop short and glance around in surprise.  
The ballroom is sparkling clean and the cleaning supplies are propped neatly in the corner!

"Who has done this?" I ask aloud and walk further into the room, "Who has shown such kindness?

I feel my eyes welling up with tears. I want so desperately to thank the kind, considerate person who did this for me.  
But there is no one in the room. I am alone.

Perhaps they are still in here, maybe they are hiding. "Thank you, whoever you are, thank you".

My voice echoes around the empty room. I look around again, and then notice that there is something on the steps, something red.

I walk over to the stairs. There on the third step, is a Beautiful, solitary red rose, with a black ribbon tied to it.  
_Whoever preformed this kind act for me must have left it._

I gently pick it up and hold it against me, crying my thanks to that kind soul.

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**The Phantom watches the girl as she walks in, wondering how she will respond to finding her work completed, by some mysterious stranger.  
****He is both pleased and surprised by her reaction, her tears and whispers of thanks.  
**_**I made the right decision to help her. **_

**A shiver of pleasure course through is soul, as she picks up the rose and presses gently it against her breast.  
****Her appreciation moves him, as none has before.**

**He turns away, a smile upon his lips. **

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I hope you like this chapter. Please review and let me know what you think.

I followed your advice and made the phantom help her. I know that some of you wanted him to get a little closer to her, but he is still a little nervous about going close to someone.

Maybe in the next chaper, they will meet. Please read and review


	3. Monsier E

**Note: **Thanks for the reviews. If you read my story, could you review it? It is easy, does not take much time either.

Yes, I agree that they should not meet right now.

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I reach out sleepily and turn of the alarm. There is a smile upon my lips, for no nightmare has troubled my sleep, only pleasant dreams filled the night.

Stretching and feeling refreshed, I get out of bed and light a candle.  
The coldness of the room chills me to the bone; I would do anything to have a nice warm rob or some slippers, but I cannot afford to by them.

I go through my morning routine of getting dressed, except with a little more difficulty, because of my swollen, painful, bandaged hand. _How could I have been so clumsy, so careless? Now I have made things harder for myself._

"I wonder what kind of work I will be assigned today." I ask my reflection, "I am sure she will give me something that will require the two good hands you do not have."  
I walk back over to the little table beside my bed and pick up the red rose I have set in a vase.

Holding it up to my nose, I inhale deeply, taking in its spicy, sweet aroma; I finger its velvety softness, smiling to myself.  
I gently kiss its petals before setting it back in its vase and leaving.

-----

I wait patiently in line with the other maids for my task, as Madame Bourg paces back and forth shouting orders.

Finally, it is my turn.

"You, Darcy LeClerc, will help Madame Poulin sew the costumes for the upcoming opera".

I stared at her in disbelief. _I am a maid, not a seamstress. I do not even know how to sew, even if I did, I could not do so with my hand in bandages._

"Madame Bourg, I do not think-

"Silence! You will do as I order. Madame Poulin's assistant is ill, and she needs someone to replace her." Madame Bourg shouts angrily, "you will do well to obey my orders without question, Darcy LeClerc, or you find yourself without any work. Do I make myself clear?"

I stare angrily at her pudgy red face, and then bow my head in defeat. "Yes Madame".

---

I find Madame Poulin in a little room behind the stage; she has in her hand a large bottle of whiskey that she quickly hides when I enter.

"Bonjour, Madame"

"Come in deary, no need for you to hover in the doorway."

I walk in and glance around at all the beautiful costumes hanging everywhere.

"What happened to your hand deary, the Phantom gets a hold to you?"

"No, I cut it on some glass. Tell me about the Phantom. Is he real or just a myth, you know, a little superstitious tale to keep everyone in line?"

"Well, I will tell you about him, while you help me cut these materials to size."

Madame Poulin hands me a pair of scissors and demonstrates how to correctly cut the material, and follow the chalk drawn lines.  
"You should be able to do that, even with that hand of yours," she laughs, tapping my bandaged hand, causing it to throb with pain again.  
After a few tries I get the hang of it.

"Now, about the Phantom. He is very real, as real as I am standing here.  
He haunts the Opera House, has done so ever since I can remember; I have been here for fifteen years.  
Anyways, he is the most hideous thing you can ever lay your eyes on. His skin is like yellow parchment , his scars are like large hideous boils, and his eyes glow like flames from hell.  
He wears a white mask to cover his facial deformities.  
It is believed he sold himself to the devil, to live forever; well the price for living an eternity, was to have a monstrous face."

I listen in fascination as she animatedly talks about the Phantom.

"He is also a murderer", she continues, "and he kills those who go against his wishes or those who see his face.  
You know, he uses a Punjab lasso, to choke his victims to death, twisting it harder and harder until they are dead.

During the last opera to be held before the fire, Don Juan Triumphant to be exact, his young lover, a singer named Christine Daae, unmasked him.  
Oh, I do not think I will ever forget the site. His face was so repulsive that I screamed as loud as I could.  
Well being exposed in public like that made him furious. He cut the ropes that held up the chandelier, and then kidnapped the young woman, his lover.  
That chandelier crashed right into the audience, killing who knows how many, and starting that infamous fire four years ago. I was injured in that fire."

Madame Poulin pulls up her dress, exposing her calves. On her left leg ran a long, puckered scar.

"A piece of beam fell on my leg," she explains, fingering the scar.

"That is terrible. Are you sure that this, err, Phantom still haunts the Opera House?

"Oui, he does as sure as I am breathing. And another thing, he lives down below the Opera House."

A loud thump causes her to jump, and then looked around her quickly. "I had better not say anything else about him. He maybe is hiding somewhere, listening."

After that, no matter how hard I tried, I could not get her to say another word about him.

Of course, what I heard about him made me more curios about this tragic man, for I believed he was a man and not a ghost.  
_But why did he live here, in the Opera Populaire? Whatever happened to the young woman he kidnapped? Why does he terrorize the Opera Populaire members?_

We pass the rest of the time in silence, except with her occasionally giving me directions; we stop only to eat a meal of cold chicken and fruits

Finally, we finish the two costumes we were working on.

Madame Poulin closely examines my stitching. "You have not done too badly for a beginner".  
That makes me smile, for I so little receive any praise.  
I stand back to admire the finish product.

One is a dress, done in midnight blue, with a full, shimmering brocade skirt and a daring neckline trimmed in silver.  
The other, is a costume for a man. I guess it is for the lead singer, because it is designed to match the woman's. It is done in a contrasting white with midnight blue designs on the sleeves and pants.

"These costumes are very beautiful. Who designs them?"

Silence greets my question. I look over at Madame Poulin; she is drinking from her bottle.  
I clear my throat to get her attention, and then repeat my question.

"Oh, I think the Phantom does." she murmurs.

"The Phantom?! Why does **he** design the costumes? How, I mean, why…  
I am unable to continue, my mind is in confusion.

"Because he chooses to deary, he composes the operas too."

I shake my head in bewilderment. _How could such a horrible, cruel man, or at least that is how everyone paints him, compose such beautiful music? Music that is so moving, so inspiring, and so passionate. Though I have never been to any of the operas, I have heard them, __**felt **__them. _

"But I do not understand…why do…why would he **want** to do these things?" 

"I do not know. Now, please, do not mention him again. Well, we are finished. You may now leave."

I nod and bid her good day.

---

I hurry to my room, seeking its quietness and solitude. I insert my key into the lock and push open my door.

There are two lit candles by my bedside, but I know that I put out the candles before I left.  
I walk cautiously into my room.

Something on my bed catches my eye.  
A package in brown wrapping paper; a red rose tied with a black ribbon is beside it.  
_Whoever cleaned the ballroom obviously left this package. But how did they know this is my room. How did they get in?_

I walk up to the bed; I notice a letter beside the package. On the back is a rose shape wax seal.  
Gently I open it, curiosity burning through me. The letter is short .

_Dear Mademoiselle,_

_Please accept the gifts I have left for you.__  
I sincerely hope that they are to your satisfaction._

_Your Servant,  
__Monsieur E._

_-_

I excitedly rip open the package.  
Inside are a beautiful black robe and a matching pair of slippers.

I give a cry pleasure, and rub the robe against my cheek, it is soft and warm and so luxuriant.  
I put the robe and the slippers on and look at myself in the mirror.

I turn my attention back to the letter.

_Who is this monsieur E? I do not remember anyone by that name.  
__Oh! Surely, it is not one of the managers. They are they only ones I know who could afford these beautiful items.  
__Perhaps I should not use them, especially since I do not know whom they are from._

I argue with myself as to whether or not I should keep them.

Finally, I give in to my selfish side. _It is yours; whoever gave it wanted you to have it.  
__You never get anything nice. Take it._

I decide to write a letter of thanks and leave it on the table. Tomorrow is my day off, and when I am out, maybe he will come in and find the letter.

I write:

_Dear Monsieur E,_

_Thank you so much for the lovely gifts.  
__I must admit, I do not understand why you are giving them to me; but I do appreciate them. They are exactly what I have been wanting._

_Please, I beg of you, to reveal you identity, so that I my thank my angel personally._

_Yours Truly,  
__Darcy LeClerc_

Satisfied with my letter, I put in an envelope and set it beside my bed.

I blow out the candles and crawl gratefully between my sheets; but I do not fall right to sleep.  
My mind is too full of thoughts, about the Phantom and my mysterious angel.

After many hours of thinking, I finally fall asleep

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In this chapter, I wanted Darcy to hear a little more about the Phantom. To kind of form an opinion about him.  
She will never guess that her Angel and the fearsome Phantom are the same man. Oh yes, this is good.\  
That is what I want to accomplish.

Please review and let me know what you think about his chapter.

I think I may make them secret pen pals.


	4. Reminiscing

-1Note: Thanks for everyone's review. I promised to reveal a little about Darcy's background, so here it is.

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I awaken early. Today is my day off, and I do not intend to waste it sleeping.  
Slipping out of bed, I put on my robe and slippers.  
It feels so soft and warm next to my skin and I almost envy the wealthy people who wake up to luxury every morning.

I have already planned my day. First, I will visit a little park right outside of Paris; I try to go there whenever I can because it is so serene and quite. Next, will be a visit to the library; lastly, I will have dinner at one of the diners nearby.

I go through my normal morning routine, and then put on my best dress to wear out; it is dark green with a wide collar, the dress is worn but still serviceable.

Satisfied with my appearance, I grab my shawl and purse, and then head out.

---

It is cold out side and a gust of wind makes me pull my thin shawl closer around my shoulders.  
the mornings are usually cold in Paris, however by noon the weather will be quite pleasant.

I look around at the tall magnificent buildings that line the street, the crowds of people of all ranks, shapes and sizes, some in a hurry, others taking their time, stopping to look in this window or that.  
I slowly make my way through masses of people.

It will be a five-mile walk to get to the park, but I do not mind.  
The long walk is always refreshing and peaceful, something not too often found in the Opera Populaire.

About a quarter of a mile into my walk, a black carriage pulls up along side me.

"If you are heading to the park, it will be a long walk. Perhaps I could offer you a ride mademoiselle", calls out a rich and beautiful masculine voice.

I stop in surprise and stare at the hooded driver.

_How does he know that I am heading to the park?_

I wave him off. "I have not enough money to pay you monsieur and how do I know that you will take me there?"

"Do not worry, mademoiselle, about the fare, and I assure you, that I will take you straight to the park. You have my promise".

For some strange, unexplainable reason, I believe him and get into the carriage against my better judgment.

I watch out the carriage window as the scene slowly changes from the crowded city to the beautiful countryside.\  
I feel relaxed and calm sitting here, feeling the rumble of the carriage traveling over well-worn paths, and watching the beautiful scenery around me.

Soon the carriage pulls to a stop right at the park. I get out and thank the driver.

"You are most welcome. I shall call for you, lets say, in about an hour."

I gaped at him in astonishment. _Perhaps he is my Angel. No, I am sure if it were he, he would have made himself known._

I strain to get a look at the hooded figure, but his face is so heavily shadowed that I cannot make out his features.

"I do not know what to say Monsieur, except thank you. Are you sure, you want to wait for me and drive me back?

"Oui mademoiselle, it will be my pleasure." he bows his head slightly, then drives off.

---

I stroll slowly around the park, admiring all the beautiful flowers and trees. There are roses of every possible color and calla lilies, different species of pelargonium, magnolias trees, wisteria growing up a few trellises and Choisya.

I stop to watch the children playing around a stream that runs though the middle of the park.  
Those children look so happy and carefree. I can remember a time when my life had been just as theirs is now.

That thought makes me remember what I vowed to do a few days ago, to recall memories of my past, no matter how painful or unpleasant they may be.

I allow my mind to drift back as I continue to stroll around the park.

--

The first four years of my life were happy and peaceful, but shortly after my fourth birthday, things changed.

I had come running home with tears streaming down my face.

"What is the matter love?" Mother had asked upon seeing me.

"Some children were throwing stones at me and calling me names", I explained tearfully, "Why mother, why were they being so mean?"

She picked me up, carried me to the rocking chair, and sat down, with me on her lap.  
"I think you are old enough now to understand.  
The old mid-wife that delivered you told all the people that you were a changeling and accursed and that you would bring nothing but trouble and harm to everyone.  
The people were only too willing to believe the old woman; they wanted a reason to be hateful and spiteful. Those people are nothing much more than suppositious pigs!"

Her vehemence and anger frightened me.

I tried hard to understand what mother was telling me.  
"You mean everyone thinks I am bad and will hurt them?"

"You are not bad Darcy." she said looking into my eyes. "It is just that the old witch told lied so that people would think you were bad. But never think that there is anything wrong with you, you are my angel, my baby."

Heavy sobs shook her small frame. I remember reaching up and wiping away one of her tears. She held me to her tightly, squeezing me until I could barely breathe.

After that day, I began to notice the way people stared at me whispering and pointing or would turn away when I passed.  
The children would not play or talk with me or would throw things.

I came home crying many times, not because I was hurt physically, but because I was hurt inside. I had never done anything to hurt anyone, yet no one would give me a chance; they would not even look at me.

I was six years old at the time my life changed drastically, the time I had nightmares about.

I had come home from walking in the woods, ate dinner, and listened to mother's stories. She had put me to bed as usual; but I awakened later to those voices and the bright light shining though my window.

Mother had come in frantic; I was dragged out of bed. Father came in later and took me into the woods, just as in my nightmare.

He left me there with a promise to return. He never came back.

I cannot recall what happened after that, except me calling out for my father.  
The next thing I remember is waking up in a bed, with a kindly old man seating in a chair next to it.  
He explained to me that he found me, unconscious from lack of food and water.

I asked him about my family and told him the name of village that I lived in.  
He promised me that he would find out something, that he would help me get back to my family.

A few days passed, when he pulled me aside and told me that no one by their names was in the village.

"No, no, no! I cried, "There must be some mistake, they are there, I know they are."

He shook is head. "I am sorry child. I asked everyone, but no one has ever heard of them.

I knew those villagers had been lying to cover up something, but I did not know what.

The old man took me to a home for orphan girls.  
That is where I spent the next twelve years of my life.

The time I spent there was not happy. The teachers were cruel and strict; they should no feeling, no love, for the orphans who lived there.  
The anger I felt at being by abandoned by my parents and so harshly treated by everyone, made me rebellious and pushy.  
I endured many punishments for my behavior, and soon began to straighten up.  
I became docile and obedient; however, inside I was full of rage and hurt, I was alone in a cruel, cold world.

After my eighteenth birthday, I was offered a teaching job, which I accepted because I had no place to go, this was my home.

Three months later the schooled had to close, because the man who owned it died, leaving behind large debts.

I was forced to look for work elsewhere. That is how I ended up at the Opera Populaire.

--

The sudden pressure of a hand on my shoulder causes me to jump.  
I look up into the grinning face of Joseph, a stagehand.

"What are you doing here Joseph"?

"The same as you, enjoying this lovely day."

Of course, I feel silly for asking him that question.

"It is a lovely day".

"You know, there is going to be a party tomorrow. Are you going to be there?"

I am not one for parties; I prefer to be alone with a book.

"I am not sure."

Joseph leads me over to a bench. I sit down and he sits down beside me.

"I would really like it if you did come to the party." he whispers, then reaches down and squeezes my thigh.

I get up angrily. _How dare that man touch me light that; I have never given him any indication that I am interested in his advances. _

As I start to walk off, Joseph grabs my hand.

"Where are you going? I think it is very disrespectful for a lady to walk away from a man like that, espcially when he is talking to her".

"You Monsieur know nothing of respect. Good day to you."

Before I can take a step, he jumps up and spins me around to face him.

"Your just not use to anyone showing you any attention" he says, as he pulls me closer to him.

I shove him as hard as I could, he falls to the ground. Several people stop and watch us.

"I'll get you for this, for humiliating me in public," he shouts angrily as he rises and leaves.

I feel shaken as I walk back towards where the carriage dropped me off.

---

**Black rage surged through the Phantom, as he watched the stagehand tried to grab Darcy.**

_**How dare he lay a hand on her, force his unwanted attention on her!**_

**He wished that he could go up there and tighten his Punjab lasso around that dog's neck, twisting tighter and tighter, until the last breath leaves his body.  
****Only fear of being exposed in front of Darcy stops him from intervening.  
****If he had not been like this, if he had not been a monster, he could have helped the girl.**

**He knew he was already taking a risk by driving her up here.  
****He had heard her discussed her plans aloud in her room and, on impulse, he decided that he would borrow a carriage and offer to drive her to the park.**

**The Phantom had to admit that he was quite taken back, when she accepted his offer.**

**He then notices the girl walking swiftly back to where he had dropped her off.  
****He pulls the carriage around and steps down to open the door for her, careful not to let her see his face.**

**Seeing the tears running down her face, he knows that he would give anything to take her in his arms and tell her that it would be alright, that she is not alone because he is her friend, that nothing bad will happen to her, not while he is here to protect her.  
****However, he cannot. He would only frighten her.**

"**Please take me to the Opera Populaire," she sobs as she enters the carriage. **

**----**

During the ride back, I force myself to calm down, even though Joseph's threats are still whirling through my head.

By the time the carriage stops in front of the Opera Poplaire, I am quite composed.  
I get out and offer to pay the driver, but he steadfastly refuses to accept my money.

"It was my pleasure to drive you to the park, Mademoiselle".

"Then will you tell me your name, monsieur?" I ask the hooded man.

"My name is Monsieur E."

He does not wait for me to respond.

"Monsieur E!" I say aloud in wonderment.

_Oh! I should have known. Only he would have been that kind. I have been such a fool._

I head inside to my little room, with thoughts racing though my mind.

My other plans for the day are temporarily forgotten

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Please review and tell me what you think. Let me know if Darcy starts to sound like a Mary Sue.

Thanks!

Oh, and I think that I will make Erik slightly pale, not Edward scissorhand pale.  
Thanks for your help on that.


	5. protégé

-1

**Note: **I do not own Phantom of the Opera.

Thanks for the reviews. Please keep them coming. The reviews encourage me to write and make my story more interesting. No reviews, No story.

What?

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For about a week after that incident in the park and Joseph's threat of revenge, I would look over my shoulders constantly and every small shadow made me jump. I was very skittish and unable to concentrate properly.

Nearly two months have now passed and so far, no misfortunes have befallen me. However, I am still very watchful.

Two months is also how long Monsieur E. and I have been exchanging correspondence.  
We exchange letters every other day.  
I must admit, the best part of my day is to my room, wondering if a red rose and a letter will be waiting on my bed, ready to be ripped open and read with all the happiness a lonely girl could have.

Those letters have almost become my lifeline, my escape from loneliness, from a cold inhumane world.

The writer, Monsieur E, fascinates me. There is so much depth to him, he is not like some I have known, those who are shallow and lacking any true reason for living. No, he is not like that, there are so many sides to him.

I have not yet been able to figure him out. He mystifies me and brushes off any of my attempts to find out about him personally.

Sometimes his letters are a bit childish and he seems almost too eager for approval, then at other times, his letters appear to contain the wisdom of a man who has lived for a very long time, who has known and seen many things.  
I have also noticed that sometimes his letters are sad and full of vehemence. That leads me to believe he has known great sorrow and pain, rejection and hatred, and briefly love.

In many ways, we feel the same. We have both known sadness and pain, misery and cruelness, rejection.

I have a great desire to see the man who is now my friend, though he refuses to make himself known.

Smiling, I reach up and lovingly finger the locket Monsieur E given me.

It is gold with a cluster of roses engraved on the front, and a single rose on the back.

---

I become aware of someone standing over me. I look up from my work of scrubbing the floors, to see Madame Bourg's cold grey eyes glaring down at me.

"Get up, girl".

I rise quickly; it is then that I notice someone is standing beside her.

It is a young girl, about twelve or thirteen. She was very small and slender, her hair is raven black, her large eyes are an unusual golden color, her small oval face is scattered with freckles, and there is a raised scar on her left cheek. Her clothing is practically rags.

"Come her child". Madame Bourg grabs the girl by the shoulder and pushes her forward.

"Tell her your name". She orders.

The girl takes a hesitant step towards me and holds out one small, pale hand.  
"I'm Anna". She smiles slightly. Her voice sounds very womanly and pretty, not what I would have expected to come from such a small creature.

I take the little hand in mine, her grip is very strong. "Hi Anna, I'm Darcy.

"She will be your protégé. You will teach her everything she needs to know about cleaning. You will no longer occupy your old room, and will be moving into a room upstairs that you will share with the girl."

I nod my head, even though I really do not want to share a room with anyone.  
_Now I will have almost no privacy and her presence would really complicate things, especially with Monsieur E. _

I glance over at Anne, who is busy studying her hands.  
_Poor child, I wonder where her parents are? Why is she here, working?_

"Anna, have you any luggage?"

"It has already been taken upstairs, mademoiselle."

"Please, just call me Darcy." I smile brightly at her.

She looks relieved and returns the smile, which makes her look very pretty.

"We will have to get you fitted for a uniform. I think you will be the smallest maid here", I laugh.

She hunches back her small shoulders and laughs too.

-----

Finally, with Anna's help, I have gotten all my stuff moved into our new room.

The room is just big enough for the two of us to fit in comfortably.  
Our beds are positioned opposite each other, with a small wooden nightstand between them. There is a large framed mirror on the opposite wall and the washbasins are on each side of it. The room has no windows; the walls are an ugly brown color.

I turn my attention to the little frail-looking girl on the other bed. I am extremely curious as to why she is here, and why has she been assigned work as a maid. She is only a child.  
I will not, though, pry into her life; I know how it feels to have noisy people question you. I will just stick to the basics.

"Anna, how old are you?

"Thirteen. How old are you"?

"Nineteen."

I try to think of a tactful way to ask about her parents, perhaps I should just leave that alone, it may bring back unpleasant memories, for obviously something must have happened to them.

"You are really young, I mean to be working as a maid."

Anna laughs nervously.  
"I came here looking for work, and the manger said the only job available was to be a maid."

I nod my head in understanding.

Glancing around my new room again, I notice all the candles Anna has lit.

"Anna, why so many candles? Are you afraid of the dark?"

"No. I just like the way candles make things look. They can deceive the eye and play tricks on the imagination." Anna says, her eyes wide and bright in the candle glow.

I look at Anna, not knowing what to think about what she has just said. However I continue to make like conversation with her.

"What do you like to do, Anna?"

"I like to play my violin and sing." she sighs deeply; "Do you play or sing?"

"No. I wish I could though. Would you sing for me a little?"

Anna eagerly jumps up. "Oh Yes! She breathes excitedly. Anna walks over to the mirror and stands in front of it, then she starts to sing.

Anna's singing is very beautiful. Her voice sounds almost unearthly.  
watch this strange girl in fascination and admiration.

When she finishes, I clap heartily. "Anna, that was so beautiful and moving. Where did you learn to sing like that?"

Anna blushes. "I have always been able to sing, but my father and stepmother would get very angry when I did. My stepmother says that my singing scares her, because she has never heard a child sing like that before, and that I must be possessed. Oh, but I am truly glad you like it".

She walks over and puts her arm around my shoulders "I just know we are going to be very good friends, Darcy".

Looking up into those golden eyes, I know that what she says is true, we will be very good friends.

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Go ahead and speculate about Anna. You will have to wait to find out more about her.

Let me know what you think of this chapter, even if it is a little short. Is it too cheesy? Not detailed enough?

Does Anna sound like a Mary Sue?

**Let me know. Review! Review! Review!**


	6. Rembering Christine

-1Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera. The plot and other characters are mine.

Note: Thanks for the reviews.

This is written in Erik's perspective.

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I pace a hidden area of the catwalks above the stage, shaking my head in anger.

The Prima Donna, a woman so similar to La Carlotta that it is sickening, is ruining the song. It is not meant to be sung like that, it is supposed be a sad, tragic song, and she sings it as if she were on parade. There is nothing wrong with her voice; it is her lack of passion, her lack of feeling for the songs.

I am thinking seriously of dropping one of the props down, not to seriously injury her, but as a warning. The Phantom's orders must be obeyed. Always.  
I can only bear to watch for a few more moments, before turning away in disgust.  
Fools that is what they all are. Especially those two, I glare down at the bumbling mangers, Andre and Firmin.  
After the fire and all the rumors of the Ghost that haunts the Opera house, those two fools couldn't give the Opera Populaire away.

-

I head back down to my lair to think. I have noticed today that Darcy has been assigned guardian of a young girl.  
Of course that may interfere with our correspondence, but I shall find away to continue them. I must.  
I cannot believe how such a simple thing as writing letters to someone could have such an effect on me. I can barely concentrate, for my thoughts are always on her, wondering what she is doing or thinking.

When I first helped her, only out of pity, I had not expected things to go this far.  
If I had known, perhaps I would have not gotten involved.  
No, I am glad things have taken its course. Now life, once again, holds interest for me. I no longer simply exist, I live.

As I walk though a passageway that leads past Darcy and the little girl's new room, something stops me. Someone is singing.  
I stop to listen to the intriguing voice. It is so perfect and clear, in both pitch and tone.  
It must be the girl singing. What was her name? Anna?  
I lean closer too the wall, closing my eyes as the sweet voice takes over my senses.  
Her voice is not exactly like Christine's.  
The girl feels so much enthusiasm and love for music. While Christine merely liked music, it was not her life. Christine was able to walk away from everything, her career, her singing, without even a glance backward. At least that is my opinion.

Music has always been my weakness, my passion, my love. It has helped me over come my pain and fill the darkness in my life.

After Christine left, after her betrayal, I could not stand the sight of my Organ or of the many songs I composed for her, putting my heart and soul in them.

I clench my fist, trying to calm my emotions.

It was not until the Opera Populaire had been rebuilt that I could once again indulge myself in my music.

The girl stops and I can hear Darcy applauding loudly. I have the urge to do the same, though that would not be very wise.  
That is how singing should be done, one should feel it burning like fire through their veins.  
I shall have to think of something for the girl, maybe I can work out something with Madame Giry.

I continue my way down, until I reach the Gondola. I step in and swiftly row myself to the entrance of my lair. The gates life automatically as I row towards it.

The entrance has remained unchanged after the fire. I have though added more traps, blocked off passages ways, and opened new ones. Even though it is not likely that those fools will ever come down here, I cannot take that chance.

I step onto the stone that leads up from the water.

For some reason I have not been able to breakaway from the Opera House, even though I own several estates throughout France.  
Perhaps it is because I am reluctant to leave what, for so long, as been my home.

My thoughts once again turn to Darcy. She has been a bit pestering in her letters, constantly asking me to reveal myself.  
However, that can never been done. I shall always remain Monsieur E to Darcy, while at the same time being the Phantom. She must never know that the two are actually one.  
Darcy must never see my face; I would nor be able to endure the look of fear that will show on her face, in her eyes.  
Christine had looked at me like that, when she discovered that I had deceived her, when she found out that I was not her Angel, just a man, a monster.

Christine was everything I had wanted to be. Innocent, young, beautiful, free.  
For that reason and her voice, I had been drawn to her. I became possessive.

When that fop entered into back into her life, when I saw that she was in danger of giving into him, I made my move.  
It was of course impulsive. I had to act then, to reveal myself. I was not thinking clearly, too blinded by jealously to see that such a move would destroy everything.  
After that, she began to fear me.

I can remember, there on the rooftop, when she told Raoul about me and the darkness I thrived in. That I had trapped her possessed her.  
Raoul took her in his arms and promised to protect her, from me, a monster.

I fall to my knees,burying my face in my hands, unable to stop the flow of tears.  
_All _I had ever wanted was for Christine to be happy. I would _never _have harmed her. _Never._

I force my self to calm down. I promised myself that I would not allow the past to haunt so, I would let go and start anew.  
The past cannot be changed. I had let her go, willingly.

Iwalk to my writing desk and take out some paper. Nothing would stop me from writing to Darcy. We both needed this, it would help me heal and perhaps give her some comfort in knowing that she was not alone.

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My first Erik perspective. Let me know what you think. Should I keep his perspective in my story or just leave it to Darcy? I am trying to portray what I think he would be feeling about everything. Yes, it is rather short, but I am only trying this out, to see if it will work.

Don't forget to review.

Love to all my reviewers.


	7. The Locket

**Note: **Thanks your reviews. I guess I shall continue to occasionally throw in Erik's view of things.

I want people to see that Erik is a bit hesitant to get involved in another relationship. He was affected too deeply by his previous one. At least that is what I am getting at in my story. When he does meet Darcy, it will be purely accidental.

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Anna has been here for exactly three days.

I have found her to be a quick learner, willing and obedient, but at the same time a bit mischievous and definitely a talker. I am really growing quite fond of her though. She is like the little sister I never had.

I glance over at her cleaning windows in the dormitories. She looks out of place in her little maid uniform, perhaps because she is so small and delicate looking.

My thoughts drift off to my secret admirer. That is how I have started to think of him. I cannot quite understand why he chooses to remain mysterious, but I do find that kind of romantic.

For the first two days, I did not receive any letters from him, but on the third day, I found a letter tucked partly underneath my pillow.

Someone taps me on the shoulders. I look up at Anna,

"There is something going on in the halls," she whispers, gesturing towards the door.

We both walk over to the door and look out into the hallways.

Madame Bourg is standing in the middle of the hall and is surrounded by several dancers and stagehands; they are shouting somewhat loudly.

I can hear some of what they are saying.

"It went missing a few days ago; it was in my room on my dresser. I had taken it out that day to wear with my costume." Claudette, one of the ballet dancers, explains to Madame Bourg, "I searched everywhere for it, then, yesterday, I saw it on _her_.

"Really! I should not think that I have thieves working for me", Madame Bourg says angrily, "but I guess you could expect _that_ from her sort. Do not worry, we will get it back and she will be fired. Just think that she would do something like that.  
Well, I will settle _her_.

I wonder of whom they are speaking, someone must have stolen something.

I continue, along with Anna, to watch those gathered outside, as they murmur in agreement.

One of the stagehands shakes his fist in the air. "We'll show her what we do with people like that."  
The others nod their heads in agreement.

Anna lets out a low whistle. "Someone is in serious trouble"

"I don't doubt it, though I wonder who it is." I watch as they start to head further down the hall, towards us.

Much to my astonishment and horror, they are heading straight for the room we are in.  
My heart is beating so fast, it feels as if it will jump from my chest. I look around the little bedroom. There is no one here, except Anna and me. Or is there? There is really no place for someone to hide.

The footsteps and shouting grows louder as they approach.

Anna and I step back and stare at each other. Both of us wondering if the other is the one who is behind all the commotion.

"Anna, did you…did you do it?"

"I should think not. I would never, _never, _take something that did not belong to me", she sputters angrily, "Perhaps it is you".

"No, I did not do it, but they are coming in this direction, to this very room! Whoever they are talking about is in here.

Just as I finish speaking, Madame Bourg marches into the room with the mob behind her.

"That's it! She has it on. Oh, I knew it. That dirty little nobody has on _my_ locket. How dare she!" Claudette shouts, pointing her fingers in my direction.

I stand gaping at the cold, angry features of Claudette in surprise. _What is she talking about?_

Madame Bourg walks up to me and suddenly slaps me hard across my face.  
"You despicable witch! How dare you come here and steal. You'll be taught a lesson you will never forget."

I stare at everyone in confusion. _Did they think that I stole the locket?  
_"No, there must be some mistake. I did not steal anything. The locket, _this_ locket", I say, clutching the locket tightly, "is mine. It was given to me as a gift."

"No one would give a thief and liar like you anything." Madame Bourg spits, her face turning a very dark shade of red.

"It is a gift, it is, _it is_." I continue to say repeatedly, near panic.

My glance falls on Anna, who is watching me in disbelief.  
"Anna, I didn't do it, you have to believe me!"

Anna looks down at her hands, shaking her head, tears streaming down her little face.

"No Anna, you mustn't think…I promise-"

One of the stagehands grabs my shoulders and shoves me against the wall.

The pain that surges through my shoulder and head, as they make contact with the wall, is almost unbearable. I fall to my knees in pain.

"Please believe me! I cry out, "I have done nothing wrong! I have not taken anything."

"Shut up girl." Madame Bourg orders.

Someone grabs me by my hair and yanks my head up. I find myself staring into the harden face of Joseph; his cold blue eyes mocking me, his mouth twisted into an ugly sneer.

Claudette walks up and snatches the locket from my neck, then waves it in front of my eyes.  
"This is mine! Mine!" she screams, then kicks me hard in my side.

I double over in pain and humiliation; tears of shame and anger running down my face.

"Go to your room and pack your stuff. You are fired. I want you out of this place, by tonight! Moreover, if I ever catch you setting foot in the Opera Populaire again, I will inform the police. Do you understand?"

I nod my head slowly. It is of no use trying to convince them of my innocents, no one will ever believe me.  
I stay on my knees with my head bowed, until everyone leaves, then I get up and run upstairs to my room.

I walk up to my bed sobbing and collapse onto it gratefully.  
My thoughts traverse fiercely through my mind.

_Had Monsieur E given me something stolen? Did he steal it? What if everything he had given me was stolen or bought with money that was not his?  
__How could he have done that to me? I thought he was a good man, my angel, but I see that I am wrong.  
__No, No! This is all wrong. How could this happen? I had come to care for that man, and this results!_

"Why?" I ask acrimoniously into the dark, empty room, "Why did this have to happen to me?"

I hear the door open slowly and slight footsteps enter the room.

I sit up and wipe the tears from my eyes.

"Are you alright, Darcy?" Anna's soft voice calls out.

"No, how can I be? I have just been falsely accessed and humiliated, left without a job and no place to go. How can I be alright?" I ask bitterly.

"I know that you did not take the locket. Perhaps the person who gave it to you did", Anna walks up and places her hand on my shoulder, "I believe you Darcy."

I grasp the small hand and rub it against my cheeks. " I know you do".

"Don't worry, I will find a way to help you." Anna soothes.

"Thanks, but I don't think anything can help me now, unless someone confesses, which I doubt is likely."  
I rise slowly. "I have to pack my bags and be out soon."

Suddenly Anna's arms encircle my waist. "Please Darcy, don't go."

I stroke her black hair. "I wish I did not have to leave, but what can I do?"

I tilt her chin up until her face is turned up towards mine. "Promise me you will be a good girl."

Tears spill from those strange golden eyes. "I promise."

I hug her to me tightly, and then turn to finish my packing.

I have no ideal of where I will go, but I know that somehow I will make it.  
Everything will turn out fine. It must.

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Did Erik steal that Locket?

Review and let me know what you think of this chapter.

I hope everyone likes it.

If I do not get any reviews, then I will stop the story.

Just kidding.


	8. The Locket II

-1Note: Thanks for all the reviews.

I do not own Phantom of the Opera, but the plot to this story and the characters are mine.

This chapter contains both Erik's view and Darcy's. To make it longer.

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Erik

---

The commotion in the hall had attracted my attention.  
I was heading back to my lair, to write a few notes, but that could wait.  
There had gathered quite a few people, stagehands, dancers and maids.

I focused one girl in particular, a young dancer named Claudette, with a very snobbish attitude.  
She was complaining about something of hers that has been stolen.  
The others around her were assuring her that something would be done about that.  
While I do not like this girl, I dislike thievery even more, so I am on her side. Something should be done. Who ever has stolen deserves whatever fate befalls them.

They start to move off, obviously in search of the person.  
I decide to stay around and see whom this thief is.  
They enter into one of the rooms.  
I slip out from one of the hidden panels and quickly cross the hall in order to enter another hidden entrance, so I can better see what is happening.  
The passageway leads to a small bookcase. I push the bookcase slowly, so as not to attract attention.

What I see stops my heart cold in my chest.  
Claudette was accusing Darcy of having stolen the locket she wears.  
_The locket I gave her!_

When Madame Bourg walks up and slaps Darcy, anger suddenly well up inside of me, anger as deep and fiery as hell.  
_How dare they insult and humiliate the woman I had…come to care for!  
_I reach into my vest, my hands instinctively tightening on the lasso. My fingers feeling its strength, its capacity to kill.

Darcy's cries of pain are more than I can handle. I cover my hears with my hands and turn away. I cannot bear it, _I cannot._

It takes all my effort and strength not to step out from the shadows and slip my lasso around that little liar's neck, strangling the life out of her, watching those cold grey eyes bulge from their sockets.  
I would do it and not feel any remorse.

Only fear of Darcy seeing me and knowing who I am, what I am, stops me.

She must never know that I am the Phantom, a cold heartless monster, a murderer.

However, I shall find a way to stop her from leaving.

Finally, I have forced myself to admit that I cared for the girl more than I wished. Her leaving would destroy me, would leave me destitute and lonely.

---

Little Claudette, quite unaware that I am watching her from the catwalks above, makes her way into a small dark corridor.  
Now I shall make my move.  
I lower the rope quickly and manage to slip it around her neck as she walks past.  
It tightens around her neck as I pull the rope taut, raising her to the tips of her toes.  
She claws savagely at the noose; her screams come out sounding like gurgles.  
The candle she was holding falls to the ground and goes out.

Only a few candles in the corridor are lit, giving everything a haunted, ghostly appearance.

"Mademoiselle, I am not sure if you are aware, but you have done something to displease the Phantom." I say menacingly, "Do you know what you have done?"

She shakes her head in response to my question.

"No? Then let me enlighten you. You have stolen and lied Mademoiselle, which is something the Phantom does not tolerate.  
You have caused an innocent girl to be beaten and fired, without cause."

The girl raises her hands to her face and attempts to scream again. I pull the ropes, causing her to claw uselessly at it once more.

"If you try to scream again, I will pull this rope and end your miserable life."

I tie the lasso to one of the beams and make my way down.

I stand in front of her, knowing exactly how the hooded cape I wear and the shadows cast upon me, from the candlelights, make me look.  
_Like the Phantom with Death's head._

I stare straight into her large, frighten eyes.

"Now Mademoiselle, I will spare your life under one condition. You will confess to everyone that you lied and that Mademoiselle LeClerc is innocent.  
I shall have my friend bring a carriage around and you will get into it and wait for LeClerc, then you will tell her everything. Do you understand?"

Claudette nods her head.

"Should you tell anyone about this or fail to comply with my orders, I will kill you. Even if you run away, I shall find you and destroy your life, make it living hell." I growled into her ears, enjoying the way it made her tremble with fear and sent tears cascading down her pale little face.

"And, another thing, you must never return here. If I do… well I shall leave that to your imagination.  
You must tell no one of your little tête-à-tête."

I cut the ropes, telling her in the process, that if my friend failed to come back, his death would be on her hands.

In actuality, I would be the driver, the one listening to every word she said.  
But, I had to let her believe that I would still be in the Opera House, waiting.

As soon as the ropes are cut, the girl takes off running as if the devil himself was chasing her.

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Darcy

I had packed my luggage and sat it beside the door. I then turn my attention to the items strewn across my bed. They were the gifts that he had given me.  
I stare at them with mixed feelings. They had come from the man who I had come to care for deeply, even without seeing his face.  
However, he had stolen something that belonged to another, and then had given it to me!  
Moreover, because of him, I am in this situation.  
My heart felt has if it had been ripped in two.

_Oh God, I had been such a fool. Had I really thought someone would take notice of me, and perhaps love me?  
__No one would ever look at a girl like me, this plain, simple, poor girl. Unless it was someone like Joseph, whose intentions were less than honorable._

I take one last glance around the room through teary eyes, and then head out to whatever future awaited me, no matter how dreary or bleak.

On my way downstairs, I start to feel fear creeping up my spine. My life had taken a very tragic turn. How would I get a job? Madame Bourg would never give a good report for my reference. And not many would hire without one.  
There were many girls in my position, who had no place to go, no money, they soon turned to…

I closed my eyes, not wanting to face the oblivious.

By the time I made it down to the entrance, my heart felt like a heavy stone.

I had hoped that Anna would be here to say good-bye, but to my disappointment, she was not anywhere to be found. I swallowed the painful lump that formed in my throat.

To make everything worse, it was storming outside. I laughed aloud, bitterly, because it seems to represent the turn of events in my life. I take one last look around the Opera House, the large halls and beautiful, magnificent chandeliers, the heavy, golden, velvet draperies that cover the windows.

It is all too much for me to handle,I break down and cry loudly into my hands.  
All my life, ever since my parents abandoned me in the woods, my life has been nothing but pain and misery. And, at last, when I had thought I found happiness with Anna and _him_, when it hung so tantalizingly in front of my eyes, it all had to be suddenly snatched away.

--

I step outside into the rain, not feeling its coldness seep into my thin dress, and not caring.

A carriage pulls up; the driver takes the luggage from hand and opens the doors.  
I get in, not aware of my surroundings.  
A little sigh from inside the darkness, causes me to jump. It is then, that I realize, I am not alone.

It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness.  
I notice a little figure pressed into the corner of the carriage.  
I felt myself stiffen as Claudette's face came into view. She looked pale and frightened, as if she had seen a ghost.

She reaches out to me with one trembling hand, then drops it onto her lap.

"Mademoiselle, I want to apologize." She whispers in a weak voice.

"For what, ruining my life?" I cannot help but be sarcastic, today has not been very good.

"Why No…I mean yes. Claudette takes a deep breath, "The truth is, I lied about the locket."

"I don't understand"

"The locket is not mine, never was."

I stare at her for a moment, trying to process what I heard.

"Why, then, did you say it was yours?" I finally mange to ask.

She sat there for a few minutes, glaring at me with those cold grey eyes, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"Simply because I didn't want you to have it. I really could not stand you.  
The very sight of you made me sick", she spat, "You would prance around as if you were the queen of Sheba, rather than a pitiful little maid. You would ignore and spurn the others as if you were too good for them. But your not and I saw the locket as the perfect opportunity to be rid of you."

She laughed then, a high-pitched sound.

I stared at her in surprise, not knowing what to say.

She opened the door and got out.

"You had better come in before I change my mind about this."

I followed her through the rain into the Opera Populaire.  
She then led me to Madame Bourg.  
Claudette walked up to her and whispered something in her ears.

Madame Bourg stared in my direction, somewhat suspiciously.

"Well, it seems there has been a little misunderstanding".

"A _little_ misunderstand?" I ask incredulously, "I was accused of being a liar and humiliated in front of -

"Silence!" Madame Bourg shouts, "If you wish to remain under my employment then you will do well to hold your tongue. You may go up to your room now."

I bow and turn away angrily.  
I will stay only long enough until I secure other employments.

My luggage was waiting for me in the Hall.  
I picked it up, then head upstairs.

As soon as I entered my room, relief washed over me, everthing that happened today seemed surreal.  
However, I still could not understand what made her confess. What had frightened her, so that she was willing to get into a carriage, during a storm, to apologize?  
My mind was puzzled, for I could not come up with any logical explantion. And judging by her behaviour in the carriage, she had not come of her own free will.

I walked over to my bed and look lovely at all my gifts and pick each one up gently. The robe and slippers, the little hair clips, the gloves. I kiss each item as I put each one back in there places.

Something, then, catches my attention. I walk up to my dresser.  
It was a red rose, with a black ribbon, and a little box.  
My heart was beating faster and faster. I knew whom this was from.  
I open the box slowly. The locket! It lay there, shining against its velvet cushion.

I picked it up and placed it around my neck, gazing at the engraved roses.

The happiness I experienced is indescribable. I cannot remember feeling like this since I was a little girl.

Just then, Anna comes running into the room.

"Oh Darcy, your back!" she cries as she flings herself towards me.

I catch the little girl in my arms and squeeze her tightly. "Yes Anna, I am back."

God is in his heaven and all is right with the world.

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	9. A Familar Voice

-1

Note: Thanks for all the Reviews.

I hope everyone enjoys this chapter.

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Claudette had done something I never expected. During the rehearsal for an upcoming opera, Claudette announced that she wanted everyone to know that I had not stolen the locket, it was indeed mine, she had lied about my taking it. She also said she would no longer be employed for the Opera Populaire.

Afterwards she had pulled me aside, and in so many words, hinted that the Phantom had forced her to confess the truth.Claudette had not revealed that fact for my benefit. Her purpose, she said, was to let me know that she new the Phantom and I planned this together.

I was completely taken back by that. I wondered what had so frightened Claudette into meeting me in the carriage to apologize, to tell Madame Bourg the truth, and then to admit in front of everyone that she lied. Now I knew, it was the Opera Ghost.I realized, then, that I owed him a great deal. He had saved me, not only from losing my job, but from being destitute and homeless. I really had no placed to go, no one I could turn to. I wondered if he even knew how much he saved me from.  
I shivered to think of what my fate would have been.  
After that day, I started to think of the Phantom more often.

But more disturbing, and even more strange, was that I had started to dream of him.  
He would sing to me in my dreams. He had a beautiful, deep voice, almost angelic, that I found lulling and comforting. I would reach out in the darkness, my hands would find his face. A face with a mask, that I had come to know so well, even though I never saw him.

For the first few nights, my dreams terrified me. I woke up feeling scared and disturbed, then I started questioning my own sanity.  
Had he really been in my room? Or was it all in my over-active imagination? But the voice seemed so real, as did the face in the darkness.

I thoroughly questioned Anna , to see if she heard anything unusual, if she felt a presence in the room, as I did.  
I was both dismayed and relieved when she said she had not.  
"You know Darcy", she had reminded me, " I do sleep like a stone".

But after a while, I actually looked forward to dreaming of him, because, then I didn't feel alone, he was there with me, beside me. And even odder, I felt safe and secure, as if I had a guardian angel watching over me while I slept, singing to me in his seraphic voice. Of course it was nothing more than dreams, but a part of me wanted it to be real.

---

The bell tower clock chimed loudly, bringing me out of my musing.  
With a sigh I rose out of the chair I was sitting in at the library. I looked down at the little golden watch pinned to my dress, my gift from Monsieur E. It was three o'clock.  
Anna and I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, and my stomach was giving loud reminders of that.

I had to search almost the entire library before I found Anna towards the back, between the long rows of books. She was deeply engaged in conversation with a little girl of her own age.

"Anna, we really should be leaving now", I whispered.

Anna threw me a irritated look, but complied none the less.

We checked out our books and headed out in search of a good place to eat.  
I chose a neat little restaurant not far from the Opera Populaire.

We sat at a small wooden table near the window, where we had a nice view of the busy streets of Paris.  
Since today was my day off, I would treat myself to something appetizing. I ordered Coq au vin and Anna ordered Bouillabaisse.

The waiter served us our meal.

"The food looks delicious", I said, smiling across the table at Anna, "I have never tried Coq au vin".

"Oh, you'll like it. I've had it lots of times. My family and I ate it often."

That was the first time Anna had mentioned her family; and it only made me more curious about them. I decided I would try to see if I could get anything about them out of Anna.  
I would have to be careful, though, because Anna had a way of withdrawing into herself.

"Where is your family? Do they live here, in Paris?" I asked causally.

Anna stared into her soup for a moment before answering.

"They live right outside Paris, in Montreuil."

"And they let you come to work in the Opera Populaire?" I asked in surprise.

"Why, they don't …know I am here." Anna stammered, fiddling with her napkin, her eyes darting back and forth wildly.  
"I ran away from home because I hated it. I hated my stepmother. She was cruel and evil. I tried to tell father, but he wouldn't believe me! He wouldn't! She let that man…she let him…" Anna buried her face in her hands, crying hysterically.

I was by her side in an instant, gathering the little crying girl in my arms.

"It's okay, it will be alright." I murmured, stroking her dark hair.

It took a few minutes for her to calm down, then she was herself again.  
I decided it was best if we left the restaurant now, and returned to the Opera Populaire so Anna could rest.

I made sure Anna was sound alseep before I headed upstairs to the large attic in the Opera House, with my novel _Pride and Prejudice _in hand.  
It was the only place I could find peace and solitude without being bothered.  
Not many were interested in undertaking the long flight of stairs, just to come up to some crowded, cobwebbed old attic.

I pushed open the heavy wooden door and walked into the dusty, clustered room.

The attic was full of every sort of prop imaginable and several large trunks full of costumes lined the walls.  
Most of these things would never be used, but they were kept just in case.  
Two large oval windows at the end, provided enough light for everything to be seen clearly.

I sat my book down on a empty crate and walked over to an old cedar trunk. I had been through most of them. But this one I hadn't peeked in yet.

I opened it slowly, so as not to cause dust to cloud the air.

I took out a beautiful, white shimmering dress. It was the one that lovely young singer, Christine Daae, the Phantom's young lover, wore during her first lead performance on stage. I recognized it from a picture I saw of her in the dress.  
I held it up to me, rubbing my hands down the soft material, admiring the way it sparkled in the sunlight. It had been up here for a few years, but it was still a briliant white.

In my mind's eye, I saw Christine standing on stage, in all her shining glory, singing her heart out to an appreciative audience. I felt the thrill that must have ran through her body, as she finally got the chance to show others who she really was, what she could really do. I heard that her voice was one of the most beautiful singing you could hear.

Just I tucked the dress back into the trunk, the attic door creaked open.  
I didn't bother to turn around, thinking that it was only Anna.

"Well, well. Who do we have here, and all alone."

That familiar voice made my blood run cold, and I spun around to face the one person I hoped never to be alone with.

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I know it's a cliffhanger, but don't be angry. They are fun. Sometimes?

Anyway, I hope everyone liked the chapter. Please review, please. Don't forget.


	10. Joseph

-1**Note: **Thanks for all the reviews. I just love my readers and reviewers. sighs  
Hope everyone enjoys this chapter.  
In addition**, I really need someone to beta my story**. If you can, then PM me. Thanks.  
I have included Erik's pov in this chapter.

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Joseph's large form hovered in the doorway.

I felt a flash of alarm at being here in the attic, alone, with Joseph.  
It was possible that he could have been sent up here to find something for the new opera play, Darkest Night, a tragic love story written by the Phantom.  
Though from the look on his face, I doubt that is why he was in the attic.

"What your doing up here?" I ask, trying to sound calm, I did not want him to know how afraid I was of him.

Joseph smiled and walked into the room, closing the door behind him.

"What do you think? To rummage through this old junk?" he shook his head, "No, I came to talk to you."

"You've had plenty of opportunities to speak to me, so why have you chosen today? Why are you up here?" I asked suspiciously. Joseph had not said a word to me since the day I was accused of stealing the locket. Therefore, his wanting to see me now frightened me.

Joseph walked over and stood right before me, his handsome face staring down into mine. I was suddenly aware of how large he was, how easily he could overpower me. I felt afraid, more afraid than I have ever felt, even when I was a child abandoned by my father in those dark woods. For I knew what Joseph could do to me.

"You never gave me a chance", he whispered, "Why?"  
He threw his hands up. "I know that day in the park, I was a bit brash, but I didn't mean any harm. Please say you will forgive me and give me another chance.," he pleaded, taking my hands in his and running my fingers through his thick blonde hair.

I stood there, my fingers entwined in his hair, looking up at that strong handsome face. And just for a moment, I experienced conflicting emotions. I wanted to give him a second chance, yet at the same time, I knew I did not love him. However, my desire to be loved was as strong as ever.  
Then my thoughts flashed back to that little scene in the park, when he had touched me and I angrily rejected his advances. His threat echoed through my mind. _I'll get you for this, for humiliating me in public. _I felt uneasy. Perhaps this was some trick; if it was I would not fall for it. I would be courteous, so as not to anger him, but would escape as soon as I could.

I looked up into his rueful face.

He did appear to be truly sorry, but it could be a pretense. I would have to be careful and not let myself be deceived. I withdrew my hands.

"I will forgive you Joseph. But as for us being together, I don't think it would work.  
But I do know you would be wonderful for some sweet young girl who will adore you." I said smiling up into those blue eyes.

His mouth tightened and he swallowed hard. "But not for you, eh?"

I shook my head. "I am afraid not, Joseph. But there are plenty of women who will find you quite attractive and interesting", I said soothingly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go down and check on Anna."

I started to move off, but he grabbed my wrist.

"You are in love with someone else, aren't you?"

"Why, n-no," I stuttered, "There is…no one else." Which was true, but as for me not being in love, well that was another matter.

"Are you sure there could never be anything between us?" he asked slowly.

I nodded my head. "Yes, I am quite sure."

"Then you are a fool!" Joseph shouted, the vehemence in his voice startled me.  
He pulled me against him; one hand held my arms behind my back, the other encircled my waist.

"I was going to let you get away with what you did to me and my sister, when you caused her to lose her job, I was willing to forget it all," he growled in my ear, "But I can see you don't want that."

"What are you talking about? I didn't cause anyone loose their job. Now let me go this instant!" I cried, struggling to free myself from his grip, but it was like iron.

I felt hopelessly trapped.

"Oh, but you did my dear. My sister, Claudette, had to leave the Opera House, because of you and that Phantom."

I stared at him in surprise. "Claudette is your sister? I had know idea…no one ever mentioned it."

He nodded his head. "She is, and you, you little beast, destroyed her dream. This was all she ever wanted, to work here, dancing on stage." He looked around the room, then back at me, his eyes wild and threatening. "But you, _you_ took it all away from her.  
He grabbed my shoulders and pinned me against the cold brick wall.

"The poor girl was so frightened of that Phantom and of what he threatened to do. She has nightmares about him, about his ugly masked face. She wakes up crying and screaming at night, because she is afraid. It is all your fault! You will pay dearly for that. I will make your life living hell!"

"No! I will not let you do this to me! Leave me alone!" I pounded my fists against his chest and clawed at his face, trying anything to free myself from him.

He twisted my arms cruelly behind my back. Pain shot up from my arms and through my shoulders and I screamed as loud as I could, hoping someone would hear me.

Joseph laughed. "Go ahead; scream as loud as you want. They are having a party downstairs, so they cannot hear you. No one can hear you. Go on, scream! _Scream_!" he taunted.

I closed my eyes in despair, with tears streaming down my face. There was no way out of this horrible situation. I was trapped up here, alone with a lunatic, who was capable of doing anything.

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Erik

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I sat in a high-back chair, before a small glowing fire in my library. In my hand was the letter I had gotten this morning from Darcy's room. I read it slowly, savoring each elegantly written word.

I blushed guiltily when I got to the part that mentioned the Phantom.

_I must tell you something_ _and you must promise not to think I'm crazy _,she wrote, _I have been dreaming of Him, of the Phantom, almost every night. He comes and sings to me in my sleep, his voice like that of an angel.  
__I cannot tell if it is just a dream or if he is really there. However, I do find that I, strangely enough, find his presence to be comforting._

So she found my being there to be comforting. I ran my hands through my hair distractedly.  
Still, I knew I had no right to be in her room, singing to her as I once did Christine.

However, I could not help it. It was the only time I could be near her, feel her soft hands gently caressing my face, without frightening her. For far too long I had been denied everything I wanted, and I would not deny myself that one small pleasure of being with her, even if it was only during the night, when she couldn't see me.

Darcy ended the letter with, _I love you my dear Monsieur E._

My throat tightened from emotion as I read those words. Whether she meant them or not, I couldn't help the profound effect those simple words were having on me. I closed my eyes and imagined her face. The long dark hair, those lovely green eyes, the soft full lips. Her image was as clear as if she stood before me. I wanted more than anything to be with her, but that could never be. I would be nothing more than the mysterious man who bestowed her with gifts. And _that _was the man she felt gratitude towards. Not me, I wasn't that man, I was a monster. Monsieur E existed only in those letters.

I opened my eyes reluctantly and rose slowly from the chair, stuffing the letter in my vest. As much as I wanted to sit here and linger over her words and daydream about her, I had business to attend.

Those two foolish managers were starting to slacken on my payments. I had been too lenient with them.  
Today they are having a party downstairs, celebrating a recent investment they made. I would cause a little accident to happen during that party, to remind them that the Phantom was not pleased.  
They would get the point; they always did, for they did not want another incident, like the fire, to happen.

I clasped on my black cloak, and then checked my appearance in the mirror, making sure everything was in order.

I made my way over to the gondola and stepped inside a bit hastily, causing it to rock and send waves through the lake.  
I rowed myself to the other side and walked up the stairs and into a passageway that would lead me to the large room, in which they had gathered.

I was only half way there and could already here the laughing and chatting of all the frivolous people that gathered.

I stopped on the catwalks just behind a massive golden drapery, to plan exactly how I would cause the mayhem that would send everyone running in all directions, screaming, "It's the Phantom! He's here!"

I decided I would cut down a few of the ceiling to floor draperies that I knew would have the most impact.

Just as I prepared to cut the ropes that held up one of the draperies, a faint sound from above reached my ears.  
It sounded like someone screaming. I tilted my head, straining to hear more.  
It came again, and this time I was sure it was a scream, and it sounded like- no, it would not be her. However, I would check, just to be sure.

I went through narrow passageways that lead up through various floors. The whole way up I was listening for any sounds that might indicate trouble.

I took a passageway that ran past the attic. As I continued through it, I could hear someone shouting. Then I heard something that stopped my heart cold in my chest.

A voice that sounded like Darcy, begging and pleading with someone to stop, whatever it was they were doing.

I rushed to the hidden entrance of the attic and pushed against it. It moved only about three inches, enough for me to see inside. I put my face to the opening and was horrified and shocked by what I saw.

Darcy was leaning against a trunk, her arms raised trying to block the blows that came from a man that stood over her.

I had to get in and help her and I would kill that man who dared to hurt her. I put all my weight against the paneled walled that served, as the hidden entrance, trying to push it open, but the damn thing would not budge.

I was growing more frantic by the minute; if anything happened to her, I would not be able to stand it, I would lose every bit of my sanity.

Finally, after a great deal strenuous pushing and shoving, the paneled wall started to move. It creaked loudly as it opened, and I hoped it wouldn't draw any attention. I wanted to catch him unaware. The man didn't turn around, but continued to hit Darcy with, what looked like a whip of some sort.

I rushed forward and slipped my lasso around the man's neck. As I tightened the noose, I caught a glimpse of his face. It was that stagehand, Joseph!

"I'll kill you for this!" I growled into his ear, as I pulled tighter on the lasso, "I swear you will die, if it is last the last thing I do."

"No!" he gasped, struggling to pry the rope from around his neck, "I won't let you."

But my grip was firm. There was no way I was going to let him escape, he would die for what he did to Darcy.

Suddenly, something cold and hard plunged painfully into my side.

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Ah, a clif-hanger.  
Please review and let me know what you think about this chapter.


	11. Trapped

Note: Thanks for all the reviews. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter. Special thanks to Pyrite for helping with this chapter.  
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I rose stiffly, using the nearest chest as support; my body ached all over from the cruel beating Joseph gave me.  
My astonishment at discovering that the Phantom intervened and probably saved me from experiencing a more devastating fate was immense. A thousand questions ran through my mind as I watched him standing behind Joseph, that infamous lasso around the fiend's neck.  
How did he know I was up here and in trouble? Why did he care? Would he kill Joseph?

That bothered me more than anything did. How would I feel if he _was_ murdered because of me? Guilty perhaps. No, I did not want Joseph to die, no matter how evil and wicked I thought him. I felt very dizzy; I closed my eyes to shut out the spinning room. All that happened today was getting to me. The figures before me blurred and contorted into unrecognized shapes.

A sudden cry snapped me out of my daze. The Phantom stumbled back, as if he had been struck, but he did not release the rope. Joseph's face was twisted into a triumphant smirk. "You dirty bastard!" The Phantom growled. He grabbed Joseph's upraised arm and squeezed it cruelly. My gaze took in the small-bloodied dagger he held and I bit my lips to stop my exclamation of horror. Joseph dropped the dagger, and it fell to the floor with a loud 'thump.' "Do you think it as simple and easy as that to be rid of me?" the Phantom hissed, his voice rough.

"Let me go, you beast!" Joseph screamed wildly. "I know what you are! You are a monstrous freak! The devil!"

I watched the Phantom's face darken with intense anger and those golden eyes glittered dangerously as he twisted the lasso tighter. While the Phantom was very tall and lean, Joseph was the larger of the two, but he was no match for that dangerous wrath that made the Phantom more powerful, more potent in his furry. Joseph dropped to his knees panting and squirming, his face turning a livid shade of blue. I knew he would die; the Phantom has never hesitated to kill in the past. Why should he spare a man who insulted him? I closed my eyes and covered my ears, trying to block out those horrible gasping sound. I wanted to run from this room, to put as much distance between the two men and myself as possible, yet at the same time I wanted to know what would happen. Curiosity prevailed and I stayed. I uncovered my ears and heard the Phantom say what I never expected.

"You are absolutely right; I am all of those things. This is why you had better pay attention to what I say. I do not ever, _ever _want to see you in this Opera House again. If I do, well I am sure you can imagine what your fate will be. Have I made myself clear?" Joseph nodded timorously. "Good. Now get out. Now!"

I could not believe what I heard. _He was truly going to let Joseph go. _For some reason I felt ridiculously giddy. Joseph got up slowly, rubbing his bruised neck. He gave the Phantom one last menacing glance before running out of the room. I watched him go, and then turned my attention to the Phantom.  
He was leaning against the wall, his breathing was ragged and shallow, and his eyes tightly shut. A puddle of blood was on the floor. I was at his side in an instant.

"You're hurt!"

He looked at me with pain-filled eyes. "I am already aware of that."

"Let me help you".

"No! I do not need your help. If..." A loud scream and the sound of someone falling interrupted him. I knew it was Joseph; he had fallen down the stairs.  
The Phantom grabbed my arm. "Someone will have heard that. Go, before they find you up here!"

"No, I..."

"I said go! I don't need or want your help, you stubborn wench. Can't you understand?" His voice was desperate and insistent.

I took few steps, then stopped and faced him. He was leaning over now, his left hand tightly gripping his side, blood oozed from between his fingers.  
I knew I could not leave him like this. He had saved my life, twice. If I left, I would like the people I so despised. Ungrateful and cowardly. No, I would stay and help him, no matter what.

"Darcy?" a small uncertain voice called out.

I spun around and saw Anna standing, pale-faced, in the corner. I stared at her in surprise. How long had she been there? No time to think about that now. "Anna, come here and help me."

She rushed over to me, staring apprehensively at Phantom. "Isn't he the Phantom?"

"Yes."

"Well shouldn't we get the police or something? There is a large reward for turning him in. We could leave the Opera Populaire for good, with that money."

"Anna! He saved my life. We're going to help him. Understand?"

Anna nodded. "Yes, but think of the mon..."

"We need to get him from here, before someone comes up. But how do we..."

"I said leave! Why don't you listen?" The phantom said roughly.

I faced him stoutly "Listen, Monsieur, I have made up my mind, so you might as well cooperate."

He must have seen the determination in my face and known I meant it, for he nodded weakly. I first had to stop the heavy bleeding, so I reached down, tore off a long section of my underskirt, and wrapped it tightly around his stomach, causing him to wince. I apologized and asked if he knew another way out. "There", he said, pointing towards the opposite wall, "we can go through there."

There was a small opening in the wooden, paneled wall, the way he had obviously gotten in. The secret entrance to a hidden passageway.  
I slipped my arms under his cape and around his stomach, careful not to touch the wound. Anna did the same. We reached the entrance and I pushed the panel opened with my free hand, exposing a long, narrow passageway.

It was dark, cold and drafty inside. A few candle-lit, webbed covered, sconces lined the stonewalls, casting an eerie glow through the tunnel. They only provided enough light too see a few feet in front. I felt a shiver run up my spine, and prayed I wasn't getting into more than I could handle.  
If the rumors where true, his lair was five-stories below the main floor. And we were at least that much higher. He would have to take frequent breaks, and I would too for that matter. My shoulders throbbed painfully, where he gripped them tightly.

After what seemed like an eternity of walking along all the twists and turns, steep steps and taking frequent breaks, we stopped in front of a large stone wall, an apparent dead-end. "Pull that lever." he whispered, pointing to a barely noticeable metal lever protruding from a large stone. Anna obeyed, and as she pulled the handle, the stoned wall ascended with a loud grinding sound, revealing his large, magnificent lair. "Welcome, mademoiselles, to my lair."

A cry of pleasure escaped my lips, as well as Anna's, at the sight of such splendor, such magnificence as my eyes have never beheld. A large shining lake surrounded part of the lair. The space was bathed in the glorious, soft glow of candles. So many candles, held in equally impressive candelabras of shining gold. There were statures and beautiful paintings, drawings and scrolls of papers everywhere. Bookcases and rich velvet tapestries lined the walls and an organ occupied the center. I also noticed a lovely swan shaped bed at the far end of the lair.

"It's the most beautiful and enchanting place I have ever seen," I said in wonderment as I lead him over to the bed. Anna spoke her agreement.

"I am glad you both like it." His voice was so warm, rich and pleasant, not like it was when he was angry. I had a feeling his voice changed according to his mood. His face, with that prominent white, half mask, was very handsome; He had beautiful eyes that looked golden in some light, and green in others. Another thing that startled me was the nagging thought that he looked a lot like Anna. I found myself staring at him. With some effort, I turned my attention to the matter at hand. I had never tended to a wound this serious, and was a little uncertain if I couldn't undertake such a job, but somebody had to do it.

"Have you any medical supplies?"

"Yes. On that large table."

I fetched the stuff needed and came back. "You will have to take off the vest and shirt. I said, gesturing to the rose red vest and white shirt he wore.

He stared at me mortified. "I can treat myself. You have done your part by helping me get here. Now, if you please-" his hand was extended, reaching for the supplies.

I held them out of reach. "The shirt and vest please monsieur." I said firmly.

"Now listen here, I am perfectly..."

"Do not make this more difficult." I said flatly, "Should you refuse me again, I shall just take it off myself."

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Erik

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I could tell the girl was not going to give up and leave me alone, so I reluctantly removed the material she tied around my stomach then the vest and shirt. Anna took the items and laid them on a chair. My face grew hot and I was aware of the flush that spread up my neck and to my cheeks as Darcy carefully cleaned the stab wound. Her fingers brushed gently across my stomach, causing breathlessness that wasn't pain related. The ointment, that I often used when I got hurt, burned like hell and I wished, more than anything, I could get my hands on some morphine, to ease the pain, though I had given up that addiction long ago.

She must have seen me grimace for she stopped. "I shall try not to hurt you too much and be as gentle as possible."

I could not help but stare at her in amazement. She didn't seem to be the least afraid of me or disturbed by my mask, though she stared at it earlier. More perplexing was her helping me. I wasn't used to kindness or someone being this close, without them shivering in fear. "Why?" I asked simply.

"Why what?"

"You didn't have to help me. Why did you?"

She was still for a moment, the look in her green eyes thoughtful. "You saved me. And I am the reason this happened to you. I would have been a monst… I mean, a terrible person if I just left you. Besides, I owe a you a great deal. Thank you so very much."

She smiled brightly, showing even white teeth and I felt my breath catch. "Your, er, welcome."

"What shall I call you?"

I shifted uncomfortably. "Erik."

"Erik", she repeated, smiling to herself. "Well Erik, I'm Darcy LeClerc and that's Anna."

I glanced at the little girl who was walking around wide-eyed. Darcy started to clean the cut again. I closed my eyes; the pain was intense and severe. I could not recall having ever felt this horrible. My thoughts went back to the cause of all this trouble. Joseph. God, I wished I could have killed him. If it had not been for my concerns about whether she think of me as more of a monster than I already was, I would have ended his miserable life. When have I ever cared about what other people thought? I felt weak and disgusted with myself. I killed before, with so much a second thought, burying in the darkest part of my mind, the little voice that warned against such things. I had reasoned that I only got rid of those who deserved it. Joseph was the first on my list, yet I let him go. And I knew why. It was because I did not want her to think of me as more of a monster than I already was.

She wrapped a linen bandage around my stomach. "There, all finished."

I looked up into her kindly face. "Thank you". The words sounded strange coming from me; I had so seldom needed a reason to express my gratitude.

"Your welcome."

"Where did you learn to dress wounds?" I asked incredulously as I surveyed the neat job she'd done.

She looked down at her shoes. "I read medical books when I go to the library. I can't check them out though because the librarian thinks it's inappropriate for women to read that kind of stuff." She glanced down at her bloodstained hands in dismay. "Have you any place I could wash my hands?"

"Behind the gold curtains. You'll find a bathroom to the right."

She re-emerged a few minutes later looking refreshed. "You should rest now, Erik." she said, settling into a chair.

"There's no need for you sleep in that chair. I have a spare bedroom you and Anna may use its right across from the bathroom."

"Oh, thank you. Are you sure you'll be alright?"

I nodded slightly, unable to speak because I was overwhelmed by her concern. She regarded me oddly before bidding me goodnight. "Goodnight mademoiselles ."

I caught sight of Darcy's back as she and Anna disappeared through the curtains, her dark grey dress was torn and bloodied, causing me, once again, to curse myself for not murdering the bastard.  
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I know, I know. It took long enough for me to update. At least this is not a cliffhanger.  
Do not forget to review.


	12. The Lair

-1Finally! I've posted another chapter. I hope you enjoy it. Special thanks to skoteinos Metamfiezomai.  
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Anna and I bade Erik goodnight and left for the bedroom he so kindly allowed us to use.

I took the lantern that hung on the doorpost and lit it. I opened the door and was quite surprised by the room. It was done in such a cheery and bright fashion, and in such contrasts to what I had seen of Erik's lair, that one had to note it.

It took Anna aback too, for she exclaimed loudly. "What's this? A lady's room!"

"It is very much so". I agreed. It was decidedly feminine and very pretty. I was sure it had once been intended for Christine Daae, had she not left with her young man and was never heard of again.

Parts of the stonewalls were hung with silk pink tapestries.  
Large white bookcases, their shelves filled with books, lined the left wall. Dominating the middle wall was an elegant canopy bed. On either side sat a nightstand done in the same heavy dark style. On the opposite side of the room were a quaint writing desk, a rich burgundy settee tucked neatly into a corner and a very ornate armoire. The cold stone floors were softened with a large braided rug. Paintings of fruits, ballet girls and landscapes added to the room's gaiety and charm. Completing the room's homey feel was a large whitewashed fireplace.

I am a great lover of art and engage in the pastime whenever I can. These paintings, even to my untrained eye, had superiority to them; they had such life to them so that they almost seem to move. I could hear the ballet girls laughing and the wind blowing through the trees.

Taking my time to examine each painting, I slowly moved about the room, allowing myself to be immersed in their beauty and richness.

Anna busied herself with studying the book titles, often exclaiming excitedly when she came across one she was familiar with.

I finally made my way to the way that hung over the fireplace. The painting had me completely enthralled. It was of a young woman, whom I immediately recognized as Christine Daae. She was dressed in a most becoming white dressing gown, her dark curls flowing gracefully down her back. Her expression had been captured perfectly as she stared intensely at her reflection in the gold-framed mirror. She had a look of astonishment on her face, her mouth slightly agape.

There was uncertainty, excitement and perhaps a little fear shining in her mournful brown eyes.

I wondered why she should be so taken with herself; then I saw it. A faint figure staring back from the mirror. Was it Erik? Did the mirror conceal a passageway-just like the attic?

With a sigh, I turned from the portrait; maybe one day I could ask Erik.

Anna had already undressed and crawled into bed. She sat there with a scowl.

"What's wrong?" I asked, approaching the bed.

"Do you think we made the right choice-I mean with helping _him."_  
_  
_"Is that what's bothering you? Of course we did the right thing, dear."

"I don't," she said bluntly.

"Why on earth not?" I had not thought about how Anna might feel about this situation, so I had never asked her.

Anna pouted. "If you must know, I think he's a monster. Perhaps you-"

"You never said-"

"I'm not finished!" Anna practically shouted. I raised a brow. "Well then, continue."

"Perhaps you feel differently, but hate him! I hate that terrible white mask he wears, the nasty pranks he plays on innocent people, the way he creeps through the Opera House. No one feels safe! I only did it to help you. I wish I were anywhere but trapped in this dark tomb, with that horrible man! I want my father!" Anna wailed. Tears ran down her cheeks and she fell into the pillow sobbing.

I stood there not knowing what to do. That I was responsible for her current distress weighed heavily on my heart. I would never, _never_ have sought her help if I had known her feelings. All at once, the realization of my situation which was having to care for a injured volatile man and a young girl who didn't want to be here, and the horror of the day started to take it's toll. I felt tired and depressed. I needed to rest.

I undressed, tended my wounds and crawled gratefully into bed beside Anna.

"Don't worry Anna; I'll not let anything bad happen to you. I promise," I whispered.

She nodded but did not rise from her pillow.

I thought sleep would come easily, but it did not. I spent most of the time thinking about Erik, Monsieur E, Anna and my parents. Thinking of them made me cry. I blamed my parents for my distress. If they had never left me, for some unknown reason-though I suspected it had something to do with the villagers, I would not be in my currant situation. When I at last nodded off, it was only to a troubled sleep, full of dreams and tossing and turning. I finally gave up trying and got off the bed.

I lit a few candles and dressed in my same torn clothing. Before leaving the room, I threw a sorrowful glance at the poor child on the bed.

There were a few lit candles on the organ and tables, casting a beautiful glow on the lake and shadows over places in the room. I noticed things I had not noticed earlier, such as the little gondola bobbing gently on the lake and the black lace curtain that surrounded the swan bed.

I approached that bed with a little apprehension, but was completely taken back to discover Erik was not there!

"Looking for me, Mademoiselle?"

The rich voice, so near my ears, sent my heart pounding against my chest. He must be standing close behind. I spun around quickly. No one.

"Where are you?" I called out.

"Here." The voice seemed to come from the organ.

"Please, sir, do not tease me. Where are you?"

"Behind the bed. Come forward."

I turned in that direction and saw what--oddly--looked like glowing cat eyes in a corner. I obediently went forward. There was Erik leaning against the wall.

"What are you doing? You should have stayed in bed," I scolded, and then waited for Erik to react.

He remained expressionless. "Good morning. I trust you slept well."

Not at all what I expected him to say. I felt embarrassed for my rudeness in not inquiring of his well-being.

"I slept well enough. How are you? Not in too much pain, I hope."

"My side aches like the very devil."

"I am very sorry to hear that. Now let me help you back to bed."

He glanced at the bed and I did not miss the disgust that crossed his features.  
"It wasn't meant for _me_. And I shall not spend another moment there."

"Perhaps a chair then?" I suggested. Erik nodded and allowed me to help him to a high-back chair typical of the renaissance era.

"Have you a kitchen? I could fix something to eat."

Erik gave me a sweeping glance that missed nothing. "You don't look as if you know anything about cooking. You're so thin and-"  
I heard quite enough. "Please refrain from making any comments on my physique. I am aware of my image and don't need you to point anything out," I snapped but swallowed, with difficulty, the scathing retorts that would have accompanied that little speech. "If you will just tell me where the kitchen is, I'll be much obliged."

He did not appear too pleased. "You're right. I should not have picked out your imperfections. The kitchen is that way," he said, pointing to an inconspicuous opening.

"Thank you." I gave an overly elaborate curtsy, grabbed the nearest candelabra and fled.  
"Don't touch any other door. Understand?" he shouted.

I kept walking and pretended not to hear. My confidence in my ability to handle this situation began to waver. "What have I gotten myself in to?" I moaned out load.

The kitchen was rather large with dark cabinets lining the lower wall. Everything typical in a kitchen was there. The dishes were stacked neatly on the counter top and a rummage through the cabinets showed there were more than enough to eat.

I fixed some hot tea, along with sausages and rolls and place them on a serving tray I found.  
Erik was still in his chair when I arrived. I sat the tray down on a little table and faced him, hands on hips.

"Those bandages will have to be changed and I hope without incident, then you may have breakfast."

Erik snorted but made no attempt to stop me. I was actually quite surprised by his compliance.

I cleaned up and handed him his plate. "Please try to eat as much as possible. If I won't be considered a nuisance, I should like to join you."

Erik glared at me. "You needn't take pity on me, Mademoiselle."

"I _want_ to sit and eat with you."

I thought his lips quivered slightly, but at a second glance, he seemed quite composed.  
"Very well then. You may stay if you choose."

I gave him a smile. "I'll take Anna her plate and be right back."

Anna was sitting up when I entered.

"How are you feeling?" I gave her a reassuring smile.

She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't really know. What do you have there? Something to eat? I hope so, for I'm simply starving."

"Yes. Would you like to eat alone or…with Erik and me."

"With _him?_ Surely not!" Anna had such an incredible look on her face that I could barely contain my laughter.

"Very well. I shall be back shortly," I said, trying to keep a straight face.

I left the room and rejoined Erik. I chose a comfortable looking chair near his own.

"How do you know when it's day or night?" I asked sipping my tea. That question had been nagging my mind since I awakened.

"See that clock?" I followed his gaze.

"Yes."

"A little sun rises in the corner of its window and gradually moves across, like a real sun,. And when the day is over, a little moon takes its place and the journey begins anew. It also plays different tunes for day and night."

"Very nice! It is such a brilliant piece. How did acquire it?"

"I made it." he replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

I took that opportunity to ask him about the paintings. "The paintings in the bedroom-you are the artist?"

"Yes."

I gave a cry of delight. Erik was quickly becoming a great genius in my eyes. He played instruments, he composed such beautiful music, he painted masterfully, and he designed and created such ingenious things. And I was not the only one who thought highly of his intelligence. Madame Giry had often enough praised the brilliance of her Opera Ghost.

Being in the presence of such a man, made me feel very simple and inadequate.

I quickly finished my meal. Erik, I noticed, had barely touched his.

"Was it not to your liking?"

"It was fine."

"But you've barely eaten anything," I pointed out.

"I'll eat it later," he mumbled and dismissed me with a wave of his hand.

I was a little hurt, but tried my best not show it. "You rest then. I shall check on you later. May we read the books in the bedroom?"

"Yes, of course you can."

"Thank you Erik…for everything."

I gathered all the dishes and washed them, then joined Anna. We amused ourselves for a while with various books. I with _Wuthering Heights; _Anna with a collection of Poetries by Shakespeare.

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I just finished reading Gaston's book. It was so good. Loved Raoul in it. Christine had more backbone. I cried like a baby at the end. Do not forget to review.


	13. OutBursts

-1

Finally I've completed another chapter. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

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During our dinner of cold meats, cheese and fruits, Darcy tried to engage me in light conversation but I, sorely lacking in conversational skills and completely absorbed in my own thoughts, hardly made a enjoyable companion. Eventually she gave up on me and remained silent for during the rest of the meal.

After Darcy left I tried to get the much-needed rest, which is "so important to the healing process" as Darcy put it, but sleep completely evaded me.

And the hard chair, the mask and wig were growing more and more unbearable. I would have normally taken them off if I were alone. However, with my unexpected guests, that was out of the question. I also would have slept in my own room but with it at the opposite end and I being in so much pain that was out of the question too. Even if Darcy helped me there, she couldn't very well come in and I was in no condition to care for myself.

Never had I felt so miserable. I forced my self to think of more pleasant things other than my wretchedness.

I still could not believe that Darcy had actually taken a meal with me, not one but two!

"_I want to sit and eat with you." _ Those words affected me more than she could have realized.

Something else I found amazing was her ability to meet my gaze directly with those beautiful green eyes. And during the entire time she stayed with me she didn't even stare at my mask, didn't even seem curious to know what was behind it. No one had ever done that before, not even Christine. Unwillingly my mind drifted in that unpleasant direction. I still, in a way, loved her, and thinking of her opened old wounds.

After Christine found out I was not the Angel of Music she dreamed of, that I deceived and lied to her, she shied away, pleaded and cried to be free from me. Christine saw nothing more than a hideous deformed creature only deserving of pity. I was nothing more than a monster.

I believed Darcy was not like that. At least I tried to convince myself she wasn't. Perhaps that was why I was drawn to her from the first.

Writing letters to her had been the highlight of my life. Having her so near was even better. I could almost say I was happy.

The only downside was keeping my identity hidden from her. I could never tell her that her mysterious benefactor and I were the same.

I thought about the first time I almost lost her in the locket incident. When I first admitted I cared for her. Still cared and liked her. But that was as far as I allowed my feelings to go. Those who did not love did not get hurt. Hadn't I learned that from experience? I made a promise to myself to not make the same mistake twice.

The last thing I saw before I did drift off to sleep was Darcy's smiling face as clear as if she stood before me.

I awaked to approaching footsteps. They belonged to Darcy. She looked radiant and rested with her dark hair an untidy mass around her head. She even looked beautiful. I decided it must have been the glow of the candle shining behind her head that made her look almost angelic.

"Feeling better?" She asked stopping a few feet away, her face full of concern.

I sat up stiffly with a groan. Spending all night in a chair had definitely taken its toll. I was paying for my stubbornness for refusing to sleep in the swan bed.

"No. This chair feels horrible and I am terrible pain." I complained. "Well never mind. I won't bore you with my grievances."

I noticed Darcy held a steaming tea cup. "What have you got?" I asked.

"Oh this", she looked down at the cup. "Its just a little concoction I prepared for you. It will help ease the pain and help you relax. Strange I should remember the recipe after all these years."

The latter was said in a whisper and more to herself than me. Darcy stood there with a faraway look shining in her eyes. I knew she was no longer here before me, but somewhere else in another time.

She must have stood like that for a good five minutes before she sighed and offered an apologetic smile. "I get like that sometimes, dreamy I mean".

I nodded my understanding. Hadn't I often done the same thing? Darcy handed me the cup and our hands brushed slightly. My hands quivered from the contact causing some of the liquid to slosh over the cup. Darcy raised her finely arched brows ever so lightly causing me to stare down at the cup in embarrassment.

It contained a brownish substance that did not look or smell very appetizing. When I hesitated raising it to my lips she furrowed her brows and fixed her eyes with an intent gaze I found unnerving.

I took a small sip. The shock of tasting something so rancid and bitter left me silent for moment. I recovered and wiped my mouth on my shirtsleeve. "That was disgusting. What in the hell did you put in this horrid stuff?" I demanded. "What are you trying to do? Kill me?"

"No." Darcy covered her mouth trying to stop the burst of laughter that threatened. She failed miserably and the melodious sound came spilling out.

Perhaps I would have found charming if I had not been in such a sour mood. Her laughter only served to irritate me more. "What do you find so amusing?" I asked angrily

"Oh nothing."

You are laughing at me." I accused.

She shook her head. "No I am not. It is just your face… when you tasted it. I do not think I will ever forget that look. Oh, really I am sorry." she said more seriously, wiping the tears from her eyes. "I shouldn't have laughed. But it was so…"

Darcy must have seen my furious expression and my apparent desire to do something with the vile concoction other than leave it in the cup, because she stopped talking and looked down at her hands.

I held out the cup. "Take it away. I'd rather hang than finish _that_!"

She started to protest but I cut her off with a wave of my hand. "Nothing would ever induce to even taste it again. So you're wasting your breath. Take it away!"

Darcy rolled her eyes and shifted her weight to the other foot. "This is ridiculous!" she muttered.

Each of our faces reflected our iron-will. Finally she gave in and took the cup and left for the kitchen. A moment later she returned with another cup.

"It's tea. So surely you won't object to drinking it."

"I don't want you anything you have to offer. I replied snippily, emphasizing each word."

If I expected her to be offended I was sorely disappointed. She smiled. "If that be the case monsieur, then from now on you'll have to make your own meals, which" she whispered confidingly. "Will be a great relief to me. I'm not much of a cook."

Whether or not she meant to be smug I took it as such.

"You really are conceited." I muttered through clenched teeth.

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't play coy with mademoiselle."

Darcy gave an indignant cry and anger darkened her eyes to emerald. "Let me assure you, sir that I would never wish to be coy with you or anyone for that matter." she bit out through gritted teeth. "And if you through insulting me I will return to my room at once."

I sat there silent and brooding. My face felt as cold and hard as the porcelain mask I wore.

"Oh you're in sufferable!" Darcy shouted after my continued silence and spun on her heels towards her room.

"Wait!" I called out after common sense took over. We relied on each other to make it through this horrible mess our being slit-throat wouldn't help. "I'm…sorry."

She turned from the door. "All is well if you're sincere. But I have a feeling that your apology stem from selfishness." She said icily.

"What do you mean?"

"Well" she said flouncing back towards me, "You knew if you were to have my continuous help you would have to be on good terms with me first."

"How dare you! As if I, _I," _I gestured toward myself. _"_should need the help of a silly chit like you. You know, Darcy, you really do try my patience."

"I try _your_ patience!?" I do believe you've got that all wrong. You try _my_ patience is what you mean, sir "

"You don't make it easy for someone to apologize, do you? It's the discomfort and the pain that makes me like this." I tried as a last desperate resort. This was partly true. But most of my rudeness stemmed from fear of getting too close.

--

Darcy

--

I couldn't be sure if Erik was sincere or not, but since we had to spend a lot of time in each other's presence it would be better for us to be on good terms and despite what he said about needing me, I knew it to be otherwise.

"I accept your apology." I said at length.

Relief flooded Erik's face. "Good. Wait! Don't go yet." he called out at my attempt to leave the room. "I know I'm not the easiest person to be around…" His eyes had an earnest, desperate plea in them, which, though I fought against it, I found impossible to ignore.

I came back into the room and walked over to the large mantle. Several little figurines lined its shelf. While I made a pretense of studying the little objects, I could feel Erik's searching gaze on me. I had to say something.

"Do you ever use this fireplace?" I asked about the first thing that came to mind.

"Yes."

I found myself genuinely interested. "How could you use it? Where does the smoke go, being that we are several stories underground?"

"There is a vent that runs up through the levels all the way to the roof. The smoke goes through it and out into the air." he replied with a grand gesture of his hand.

"And yet no one has discovered that vent or the others since there is more than one fireplace." I wondered aloud.

"It's between the walls- in the panels. They can't be seen."

"How did you ever manage to undertake such a task?"

"It's a secret. I never divulge my secrets- about anything."

Those words sent me back in time. Those exact words had been used by Monsieur E whenever I got to curious about him. And now that I thought of it there was something about Erik that reminded me of my secret friend. Something about their moods, that infinite sadness that seemed ingrained into their souls.

"Darcy you are not listening!" Erik's deep accusing voice broke into my thoughts.

"Hmmm?"

"The last time I checked there were two extra occupants in my abode."

"What?"

"I was speaking of the girl. How is she?"

"Oh Anna. She's well- if only a little worn from this incredible adventure.

"She's afraid of me."

His statement caught me off-guard. "Yes she is…a little. But then so many others find you frightening too.

I immediately regretted my hasty reply when a hurt look leaped into his eyes.

"I'm sorry Erik, I shouldn't have said what I…"

"No. It's fine. But," he leaned forward, "that leaves me to wonder about you Darcy. Are you afraid of me?"

I shook my head. "No. You have not given me a reason to be, except for you little show of temper."

"After all the talk and gossip of the 'Opera Ghost' you still need a reason?" He leaned back and steepled his fingers. "I should think you daft if you replied you are not aware of who or what I am."

He waited for a reply, but when I remained silent he continued. "Of course you do. You really are fond of listening to the 'brats' and the others talk of me. I have ears and eyes everywhere, you know."

I felt the heat rising in my cheeks and I dropped my gaze, my mind racing back to the times I had tried to pry out of the others as much as I could about him. "It's a woman's curiosity." I finally managed.

He frowned and I believe even pouted a little. "I don't like curious women."

I didn't know what to say to that and a rather uncomfortable silence followed.

It was Erik who spoke first. "If you and the girl should like to bathe…" he nodded towards the bathroom.

"Yes, I should like that very much."

Erik stared at my dress and I felt a rush of shame. I knew I looked like a perfect wretch in my torn dirty dress and I wished fervently I were anywhere but under his scrutiny.

When he did speak there was nothing but kindness in his voice. "There are also some gowns in the armoire, they once belonged too…" Erik's voice trailed off and his eyes were suspiciously moist. Yes they should be about the right size. You're welcome to use them. I don't think there's any that will fit the child."

I felt a surge of gratitude towards the man sitting across from me.

"Thank you so very much. You know," I added, "I seemed to have been thanking you a lot lately."

As soon as I stepped into the room, Anna pounded me with questions, wanting to know what was going on, why were we shouting, why was I smiling.

I had to literally push her off of me.

"But why are you smiling like that?" she demanded with a stomp of her feet.

"Erik has kindly allowed us to use he bath." I explained walking over to the armoire.

I threw open its doors. There were several dresses in all different colors.

"These are so lovely!" I exclaimed fingering the soft silk materials and intricate details. I knew they had been made by one of those expensive sought-after tailors, not from the little shops I usually went too.

I selected a simple cut dark green one that would compliment my eyes. Anna was furious after finding out that none of the dresses could fit her.

"This just isn't fair! "She shouted, with tears streaming down her pale little face.

"Cheer up Anna. At least you'll not be denied the privilege of a nice warm bath." I soothed

"What good is a bath if you have to put on the same dirty dress?" Anna groaned, and then added more tragically, her golden eyes brimming with tears. "Oh Darcy, just when I thought my life couldn't get any worse, this happens!"

Anna was high-strung by nature and already deeply affected by the past few days. This new, though minor, disappointment sent her into a spiral of emotions. It took quite a bit of coaxing and soothing to get the girl calm enough to stop crying and take a bath.

I walked into the bathroom and lit a few of the scattered around the room.

The bathroom looked like it belonged in a château rather than an underground lair. Heavy mahogany wainscoting covered the bottom wall. The stonewalls were painted a deep red. Shelves jutting from the corners, over the massive claw-foot tub, held the necessary toiletries. Across from the tub sat a handsome hand-painted vanity, sitting on top of it was a silver brush set and several bottles of perfume. A large standing gilded mirror sitting towards the back completed its old-world look.

I ran the water and sat on a little chair belonging to the vanity, waiting for the tub to fill.

Anna who had come in when I had, after thoroughly examining each item in the bathroom, made her way over to me. I gestured for her to sit on my lap, which she did.

"Why does the Phantom have so many of these little things." she asked fingering the fancy perfume bottles.

"I don't know." I replied, in hopes of avoiding a explanation of Christine and their tragic romance. She surprised me by saying: "I know why. It's because of that woman. I don't remember her name, but she was once a chorus girl I believe.

"You know about that?" I asked, "Weren't you to young to remember?"

"I was eight at the time." Anna rolled her eyes and grunted. "Why do adults act like children don't understand what's going on. It happened the same year mother died. 'A mighty scandal' as papa called it. I remember they were all hush-hush about everything, changing the subject when I entered the room. But I would hide behind the doors and listen and the servants talk you know."

I nodded my head. "I know about the servants." I said, thinking about how much gossip and talking those in the Opera Populaire did.

"Do you want to bathe first Anna?"

"Yes."

I helped Anna wash her hair. The pine-scent of the shampoo filled the room. It brought sudden tears to my eyes, reminding me of my mother. She always smelled of pine and lavender. I blinked back the tears before Anna could see them.

After I finished my bath I sent Anna to take a nap while I tidied up a bit. Erik was asleep in the swan bed when I checked on him. Even in sleep he wore a turbulent expression on his face. Life had been so cruel and cold to Erik and my heart went out to him.

Anna had carelessly tossed his clothes on a chest that first night. They now lay in a heap on the floor. I picked them up and as I did a white envelope fluttered down onto the floor. I bent to retrieve it intent on putting it back in a pocket, when I noticed a familiar handwriting on the front. My handwriting! My heart pounded against fiercely against my chest and with trembling fingers I pulled the letter from its envelope. I looked down at it and a wave of nausea hit me like a ton of bricks. It was the letter I had written to Monsieur E!

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And now my friends-I leave you with a cliff-hanger. Please review and let me know what you did and didn't like about this chapter. It will help me get better in the future.


	14. Discovering Monsier E

Please enjoy!

--

I could not believe this was happening. As strange at it seemed, I had fallen in love with the man to whom I exchanged letters. Therefore, to now find my letter in Erik's possession was truly shocking.

I stared at the letter in confusion. "What does this mean?" I wondered aloud, trying to derive some explanation from my madly spiraling thoughts and questions.

_What was this dark dweller doing with this letter? Perhaps they were friends. _I seriously doubted that would be a possibility. _Erik had taken him captive. _I shivered at the idea, taking nervous glances around the room. Then rose the sickening thought, the one I had desperately tried to bury in the deepest darkest part of mind. It left me feeling like I were hit by a tidal wave. My beloved Monsieur E and this Opera Ghost were the same! This seemed to be most logical solution, but my heart firmly rejected it.

"What are you doing?" Erik's deep accusing voice echoed loudly around the room. It startled me out of my musing, causing me to jump. I spun around to face him, unobtrusively placed my left hand holding the letter behind my back.

Erik was sitting up on the swan bed, his face set in a frown.

"Oh, nothing. I was just straightening things up a bit." I replied in the most innocent tone I could manage, though my heart was pounding madly.

'Liar' those golden eyes seem to say as they searched my face before dropping down to my left side.

"Then what have you got in your hand?" he asked rising slowly from the bed, holding onto the swan's graceful neck for support.

"I said I did not have anything." I held out my empty right hand for his examination.

"Not that hand!" he roared, nostrils flaring in obvious anger, "The left hand-what have you got in the left hand?"

Now my own temper rose. I decided I would have none of it. "Oh, you mean _this_?" I asked vehemently, waving the letter wildly in the air. "This letter _I _wrote to a dear friend."

The sudden production of a letter he obviously meant to keep secret, had taken Erik back, his face turned ashen and his eyes darted wildly from me to the letter. Then he recovered himself. "What are you doing with that?" he demanded in a higher pitch than normal, his finger pointing at the letter.

"I do believe I should be asking _you _that! Perhaps you want to explain." I stood, hands on hips, waiting for him to speak.

Erik's face became distorted at my words. He reminded me of a sinister-looking gargoyle I had once seen in a book. The look he sent me made me cringe. At that moment, I was truly afraid. This was the menacing phantom I heard about so often. I was forcibly aware of his tall size, of how easily he could choke the life out of me with that lasso he was fingering beneath his shirt. However, I stood my ground. _He must not know I am afraid. He must not!_

Then to my astonishment, he sat abruptly in a chair and buried his face in his hands. A faint sound that seemed to be sobbing reached my ears. _Was he crying? _I could not believe it!

"Sir?" I called out uncertain. No answer. "Erik?" I ventured a second time.

Erik rose as abruptly as he had sat. His tear-stained face once again twisted into a cruel sneer.

"You little prying Pandora!" he screamed. "You went through Erik's clothes-did you not? Curious Devil! Could you not just leave things be? Curse you! Curse you for all of eternity, you inquisitive wench!

I shook my head in frightened confusion. "I do not understand".

"Why Darcy? Why? Why did you go through Erik's clothes? It is over now. Everything…is…ruined." he choked out, crying again, cradling his head in his hand. "Ruined! Oh God, why?" he whimpered softly to his self.

"What is ruined? What have you to do with my Monsieur E?" I cried out, desperate for this mystery to be solved and done with.

"You're a great fool!" Erik whispered, sounding hurt. "Obvisouly you want the plain truth so I shall give it to you. Your precious Monsier E and the dreaded opera ghost, this" He gestured to himself "this loathsome beast is the same! Is that what you wanted to hear? Come now, do not look so pale. What is the matter? Are you not pleased?" He spun around slowly with arms outstretched. "You must admit I am a fine specimen of a man! A very fine specimen indeed!

He laughed like a lunatic and I covered my ears to block out the horrible sound, my heart and mind still reeling from this terrible shock. _What have I gotten myself into? This cannot be happening! It just can't!_

"I need time to think." I replied weakly settling myself into a chair.

"But of course! Take all the time you need, my dear girl. I do not think you will be going anywhere for awhile!" He laughed again. "Who did think had brought you all those gifts? Some handsome count? A duke perhaps?" he spat. "Look at yourself. Who would notice a simple plain maid like you? Answer me!"

This time I could not control the flow of tears that spilled freely down my face. I did not even have the strength to wipe them away. I just sat there trembling, scared and feeling utterly hopeless.

"Oh please do not cry!" Erik's voice was strangly soft, like that of an angel. "I can not stand to see you cry!"

"You have… frightened me." I whispered between chattering teeth.

Erik gave a deep low moan falling onto his knees. "I did not mean to frighten you. Erik is a bad man! He should be punished!"

Before I could speak a word, a loud gong echoed through the lair. Erik dragged himself up with a growl, muttering curses under his breath.

"Erik?" I questioned. "What is that?"

He turned toward me, his face the picture of calm. His voice once again steady and powerful. He was back in control.

"An alarm has sounded in the middle tunnel. It means someone is in there. I shall go check.'

"You are in no condition to go and-"

"Silence!" Erik's glare was cold. "And _you_ are no condition to order me about, woman."

He walked clumsily toward a tunnel and vanished. I rose from my chair wringing my hands in distress still churning the day's events over in my mind. Erik returned after a few moments holding a large envelope in his hand, which he slapped onto his organ bench.

"Come" Erik bent his finger toward me. I did not move.

"I said come! Please mademoiselle."

I gingerly made my way toward him, still wary of his temper. I stood beside him, not daring to look at his face.

He removed a crisp sheet of paper and grabbing my wrist, pressed it into my hand.

"Read it".

It was written in an unfamiliar hand and very short.

_O.G _

_There is an investigation into the claims made by Joseph Roux that the Opera Ghost attacked him. He is in critical condition and may never walk again. The police are searching for you. The stagehand is telling everyone that you have kidnapped Mademoiselle LeClerc and have possibly murdered her. I have tried my best to cover over this unfurtunate situation. I leave everything to your decision._

_Madame. Giry_

I re-read the letter to myself. So everyone believed me to be dead! I hoped Madame Giry could come up with a believable explanation for my disappearance. Mixed feelings arose as to Joseph still being alive. In a way, I was relieved and at the same time sorry that he was not dead for all the trouble, he caused.

"So he is alive." I said emotionlessly

"The bastard should have died!" Erik spat, "Don't worry dear child-I will finish him off.

_Is that what I wanted? For Erik to kill Joseph? _

"I don't know if that would be such a -"

"You want him to live?" Erik interrupted staring at me wide eyed.

"Well… yes I -"

"I can not believe this! After everything that has happen, after he attacked you and done who knows what and after this!" he pointed angrily to his side. "You still want the man to live? You are in love with him!" he accused-his voice echoing like thunder.

"No! Of course not, I-"

"Ah, so you _do_ want him dead."

Now Erik was being stubborn. "No! I do not want Joseph dead and I especially don't want you to kill him." I cried in my growing frustration. Erik's darkened expression compelled me to continue.

"What I mean is I would not feel horrible if someone were to die because of me. Can you see it is not the right thing to do? You would be committing a murder. "

Erik shook his head sadly. "You forget girl, you are speaking to a man without a concience. I haved killed before and can do it again! I cannot be changed. I am darkness and death. We are one-joined togher forever."

"Do not say such a thing! Goodness can be found. Yes, even in _you_." I replied impulsively.

Erik leered at me. "You are young and naïve. But alas! I shall prove you wrong." He took a threatening step forward. I instinctively stepped back. "You shall see!"

"Erik, stop!"

"You shall see"!

"Please, you're scaring me!" I cried.

Footsteps sounded behind Erik. The child was awake. I could not let her see this so I had to stop him.

"You'll frighten the girl Erik." I whispered.

He stopped his advancement and turned. I peeped from around his shoulders and saw Anna standing in the doorway. In her hand, she held a dualing pistol, cocked and ready to fire.

"You leave her alone!" she cried. "Make a move monsieur and I shall shoot."

"Give me the weapon child."

"No!"

"I was not going to hurt Darcy. So put it down."

"No!

"Listen to me-"

"I said do not move. Stop!"

Erik continued toward her despite her warning.

Anna raised the gun, closed her eyes and fired.

--

Ah ha! Cliffy is back! Boy, the Phantom sure does know how to get into trouble. I' m trying to get more into Erik's character. Tell me how you think I did in this chapter.

Think she hit him or missed. Review!

.


	15. Getting Closer

2

This chapter is from Erik's pov. Thanks for all the reviews! You guys rock!

--

Too many emotions raged against me all at once. Shock at being discovered, anger at myself for being careless and Darcy for prying, fear that all was at an end. The wall I had built around myself, for protection, after Christine's betrayal threatened to crumble into nothingness and I would once again be pitched into the eternal darkness and hell I fought hard to be free of.

"I said do not move. Stop!" the little pale, wide-eyed girl's words snapped me back to cold realism. Before I had a chance to respond to the command she fired the pistol.

An earsplitting bang echoed followed by Darcy's high-pitched screams. Anna was knocked back by the force of the shot and I seized the opportunity to grab the pistol from her unsuspecting hands.

Her golden eyes, uncommonly like my own, widened in surprise and fear, yet there was a firm set to her face.

"What are you going to do now, Fantome?" she asked with a toss of her dark hair and a rustle of her skirt. "Kill us like you do everyone else who crosses your path?"

I stared at her coldly.

"Do not worry yourself, child. I am not going to harm you. Neither one of you." I replied trying to swallow the rising disgust I felt for myself.  
That was all I had become. The Phantom, a most miserable and horrid creature, who would choke the life out of a person just because they dared to whisper my name wrong. I had never cared what others thought, had actually taken pleasure in striking fear and loathing in those around me. But now, after meeting Darcy, getting to know her, I no longer knew what I thought.

I was all confusion and raw emotions. I ran my hands over my face distractedly and I threw a cold glare at Darcy who now held her hands out to the quivering girl. That woman, so calm, so strong, was wrecking havoc in my life.

"I do not believe you! You were going to hurt Darcy!" Anna cried, tears spilling down her face and dripping off her chin.

Suddenly I felt compassionate toward the small girl, though I couldn't understand why. It seemed there was almost some sort of connection between us. _No, this is ridiculous. _I laughed inwardly at my strange notion.

"You may believe what you wish; I am in no mood to persuade you."

The girl gave me one more anxious, unbelieving glance before darting past me as if I were the devil himself, and into Darcy's waiting arms.

I turned my back on them facing the gleaming lake, yet I could feel their eyes boring into me. This served to irritate me further.

"Would the two of you stop staring at me?" I growled. "Why don't you both go to your rooms? I want to be alone."

They just stood there like two stubborn jackasses.

"I said _now_!"

Darcy narrowed her eyes and raised her chin defiantly. "You forget, sir, we are not on of your stage brats, nor one of those insipid managers. Perhaps your threats and orders work on _them_, put raising your voice to _us_ is to no avail."

" No? then allow me remind you of _where _you are, five stories below in the bowels of the Opera house. Oh, and do not forget what condition you'd be in now, if not for _my_ kindness." I hissed.

A hurt expression leaped into those soft green eyes, but was replaced almost immediately with a look of determination. She distractedly wiped her hair back from her flushed face with a 'umph!' I found myself staring at her, enchanted with the charming picture she made. Standing tall and brave, squarely facing the most dreaded thing in the opera Populaire. In that moment she could not have looked more beautiful. Not a beauty like Christine's, but something more, something internal. I tried unsuccessfully to will my eyes away from her.

Darcy cleared her throat bringing me back attention. I looked away in embarrassment.

"Now that I have your attention. You may remain obstinate if you wish, sir, but one of us must step down for the sake of peace, and so it shall be I." A small smile pulled at her full lips. "I fear the day has been a bit taxing for you" she continued. "And I recommend you rest. I shall return later to check on my patient. Perhaps we could even fix you up a nice warm bath."

Her gentleness left me feeling even more like a monster. I had to do something to shake of the horror I felt.

"How can you just...after what I did..." I gave myself a mental shake. "I -I would like to apologize-"

"There is no need to, I under-

"How can you? You-"

"It doesn't matter."

"But of course-"

"Erik-"

"Please, woman, let me finish."

Her bowed head signaled me to continue. "I want to apologize for my... appalling behavior. And I pray you accept." I looked at the child who stood cluthing Darcy's skirt. "I would… like you to forgive me too, Anna. Have I… secured your forgiveness?"

To my eternal relief, they both nodded.

"Good! Now if you ladies will excuse me, I should like some time alone."

"But of course."

I watched them leave, sighed, then stumbled toward my organ and sat wearily on the bench. A calming sensation tingled through me as I ran my fingers over the ivory and black keys. I allowed myself to be drawn into the music that had a will and life of its own. I played softly, loudly, calmly, fiercely, passionately.

The whole room vibrated with music, filling every inch of it and myself with ecstasy.

Some warm presence was now standing behind me. I stopped in the middle of a song. _How long had she been there?_

"Please, keep playing. It is so… pleasant. Do go on." Darcy murmured.

"You want to hear me play?" I asked surprised, spinning around on the bench. No one had ever shown interest in my music. Not even the managers, who only accepted it because they had no other choice.

"Yes.

"Why?" I demanded, secretly hoping she would say what I wanted to hear.

"Because I think it is beautiful and pure. I've never heard anything like It." she breathed, her face flush with pleasure, her eyes closing alluringly.

_Pure. _I laughed aloud at the irony. I was the last thing on earth someone would associate with purity.

"They play my opera up _there_." I continued.

Her eyes opened again. "Yes, but not like _this_. It's…it's unearthly. The way you play it I mean. It is simply fascinating!"

"Thank you. Do you sing, mademoiselle LeClerc?"

Darcy's hand flew to her throat. "Oh no! I'm afraid not." She looked at me shyly. "Perhaps _you_ would sing for me though?"

My chest constricted. I had only sung to one person after coming to the opera Populaire. That was Christine. I closed my eyes, recalling every detail of that night. It was too painful; I couldn't repeat it.

"No! I-I can't" I panted, covering my face, feeling the hard mask. The cold reminder of why I was alone, why I was unloved. "I can't! And don't ever ask me again! Do you understand?"

"I'm sorry! I hadn't meant- I didn't mean to-" she stuttered, confused.

I ignored Darcy and just sat there staring into space, trying to clear my mind of Christine. _My angel of music._

"Erik, what you need is a friend." Darcy whispered, placing her hand lightly on the back of my neck. Unaccustomed to being touched I cringed and brushed her hand away, regretting my actions instantly as she moved away.

"I don't need a friend." I replied testily. If only she new exactly how I felt, how much I had desperately wanted someone I could talk to and share my problems with. The closet person I had to a friend was Madame Giry. But even then I couldn't share my thoughts with her, she simply served as my mouthpiece and messenger. And Christine hadn't known me at all, except as her father's promised angel. But I wasn't that.

"But of course you do. Everyone does." She tilted her head to the side an odd expression on her face. "I'd like to be that friend if you would let me."

I could not believe what she had just said! Hope rose and threatened to burst from soul. But I acted quickly and crushed it before it could fully consume me. _No! _I told myself bitterly. _She just pities you. Like Christine did. Nothing more._

"You do not know what you are talking about." I replied, closing my eyes in despair.

That bold woman rounded the bench and dropped to her knees, taking my ungloved hand in her small warm ones. I usually wore gloves, but had forgotten to put them on after I had awakened. I sat there too dumbfounded and shocked to protest, waiting for her to turn away repulsed because my hands smelled of death and were cold, like a corpse. Christine had made that painfully clear, crying out in terror whenever I tried to touch her without my gloves.  
Yet this angel at my feet was holding my hand as if I were a normal man. _Just like everybody else!  
_Any doubt of my love for Darcy vanished in that moment.

Her eyes, large and brilliant, stared into mine, searching and comforting all at once. I found I could not break contact, didn't want to.

"I know what I'm doing and what I want, Erik. And that is to be your friend, if only you would let Me." she said tenderly, her chin quivering slightly. From what unknown emotion, I could only guess.

I swallowed uncomfortably; acutely aware of her thumbs caressing circles onto the top of my hand and how pleasurable it felt to be touched so. This was the closes I had ever been to someone without them being frightened or disgusted. I wanted to vanish into to darkest part of my domain, yet remain like this, with her, forever.

I reluctantly dragged my eyes from hers and focused them on our joined hands, deriving some comfort from the fact she had willingly touched me, twice. I racked my brain for something to say.

"I-You-this" I stuttered, feeling like an utter fool. Darcy's encouraging smile was more than I could bear.

"It can never work!" I cried out, jumping up as if scalded by hot water. I turned and hurried out toward my room, glancing back only briefly. Darcy was still on her knees, eyes downcast and hands folded neatly in her lap.

I cursed myself every creature from hell for being a coward and turning down what I most desperately wanted and needed.

--

Now they are getting somewhere. Darcy won't give up on the impossible Phantom that easily.

Please Review and let me know what you think of the direction this story is going in.


	16. Crushed Hope

Thanks to all who reviewed. Thanks so much guys for giving me your feedback. It helps make me a better writer. You know, I've never written a story this long before.

So this a first for me!

I hope you enjoy this chapter.

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Erik's POV

0-0-0-0

It was with a measure of relief that I locked myself in the safety of my room.

Leaning against the door, panting for breath, I murmured repeatedly: "Oh dear God! Oh dear God!"

I sank slowly to the stone floor and stared at my hand, the one she held and rubbed. _She touched me! Willingly! She wanted to be my friend! Willingly!_  
_  
_My breathing was slow and painful. My heart pounded against my chest so hard I was sure it would burst through.  
I could not get her out of my head. Those exotic wide eyes, those full lips, that tender expression on her face. _Tender expression? For whom? _I dared to hope… that. _What? What had I dared to hope? That she felt something for me. _I laughed aloud, a hoarse grating sound.

I had to crush those feeling _now_! Hope, I had learned from experience, was a dangerous thing.

My mother, Christine, my association with humanity, had burned that opinion forever into my mind. Yet I still could not stop thinking of her.  
Therefore, my thoughts continued in that direction, twirling slowly and tremulously through my mind and soul. I reveled in that brief tortuous pleasure.

Now I remembered why I avoided humanity for so long. It exposed my long buried weakness; I wanted to be with people, longed to talk with them, _be _like them.

Now that little imp had awakened that desire once again. _Curse her for that!_  
_  
_I moaned banging my head repeatedly against the door, ripping of the wig and mask in frustration. It felt so good to have those awful things off, to feel the cool air against my skin.

I reached up and touched my face, withdrawing my hand with a wince. It burned with pain when I touched it. Swollen too.  
It would look repulsive, always did when I wore that wretched thing for long periods of time. I threw the mask a loathsome glance.

It never failed to remind me that I was a monster.

I laughed sneeringly, remembering how I use to strike terror in all those who were unfortunate enough to see _'the devil's child'_.

A vision of Christine played before my eyes. Her dark eyes wide, her pale face the picture of innocence and fear. That look on her face when she first removed the mask. _Oh God, I would never forget the pity in those mournful eyes as she handed me my mask.  
_When she realized her _Angel of Music _was nothing more than a horrifically deformed man. A monster!  
Nor could I forget the words she spoke to _her young man _about my face. "_Horror, horror, horror_!" she had cried out, and how she had lied to me about how she really felt about me. _"My lies were as hideous as the monster that inspired them." _  
_  
_I put my hands over my ears trying to block out her sweet voice and those harsh, yet truthful words that issued forth.

Tears were running down my face now; and they would not stop. I rose and stumbled blindly toward my coffin, falling into its velvety softness and wishing I would never wake up.

I clung to the pillows, crying then laughing, and then crying again, until my brain could not form one coherent thought. Completely exhausted I slipped into a troubled sleep.

_"It's alright. Christine is here." I turned towards the angel's voice.  
_  
_"Where?" I called out desperately. "Where? I don't see you."  
_  
_"Here behind the curtains, Erik.  
_  
_The curtains? I got out of bed and pushed back my own curtains surrounding the coffin._  
_"Where Christine?"  
_  
_"Behind the red ones." she said sweetly, and then laughed. "Come find me".  
_  
_I followed the direction of the voice. There where the red curtains directly ahead. I could see her shadow. _  
_I reached out and pulled the curtains back. Nothing but an open casket.  
_  
_"Enough Christine." I growled. "Stop playing these games."  
_  
_"Are you very angry angel?" she asked from some unknown place.  
_  
_"Yes. If you don't show yourself I shall leave you forever."  
_  
_"Oh! Please, I beg of you, do not leave me!" Christine wailed.  
_  
_"Then show yourself." I demanded.  
_  
_"I cannot."  
_  
_"Why?"  
_  
_"I'm tied up. He will be back soon. I can hear him now! He's coming!"  
_  
_"Who Christine?" I ran forward, reaching out blinding, trying to find my angel.  
_  
_"He's coming!"  
_  
_"Christine! Answer me! Where are you?"  
_  
_"I don't know! In…in some sort of…box I think. It is dark in here! Oh I am so frightened Erik."  
_  
_"I'm coming my child.  
_  
_I headed back towards the coffin. It was closed now. Strange noises, like that of scratches against wood emanated from inside . I opened it. There was Christine, lying there calmly, looking seraphic and ethereal, eyes closed, lips and cheeks rosy._  
_I leaned over and kissed her cheek tenderly, longing, in several places. To my dismay, her smooth skin melted into a hideous deformity beneath my lips._  
_I could not hold back my screams of horror._

_0-0-0 _

_Darcy POV _

_0-0-0_

I counted today of as a bitter disappointment. _So close_, I had been so close to breaking through to Erik. To being the friend, I knew he desperately needed.  
Yet when I offered my friendship, he fled!  
_Why he did not snatch, at what was hanging right there in front of him?_I was sure his reaction was based on his experience with Christine's rejection. Exactly what had she seen under that mask?

I remained on the floor for a few minutes, trying to visualize every possible facial deformity he could have. That was entirely left up to imagination, since I hadn't really seen that many people with facial deformities. Non-I thought of repulsed me enough.

I stood, shaking off my dress, and then stretching.

Anna was sitting on the edge of the bed when I entered, her slender legs dangling.  
I plopped down beside her, staring up at the stone ceiling.

"Darcy are you-are you very…angry?" Anna stammered.

I rolled over and propped on my elbows to face her. "What are you talking about?"

"Because of what I did! I have made you unhappy! "She blurted out, chin quivering. "You wanted to be alone with-with him, and I ruined it!"

"No, my dear girl! You've not ruined anything." I gathered the edgy child into my arms, gently pushing in her nose with my finger.

"You could have killed him though." I murmured, shuddering. The thought struck more terror in my heart than it should have.

A sudden thought made me hold her an arms-length away. "Where did you find that pistol?"

"There." she whispered, pointing toward the little writing desk. "It was hidden among some of the papers." she explained.

"I wonder why it was placed there." I gently pushed Anna out of my lap and crawled out of bed.

A quick rummage through the draws revealed a note, written in a decidedly hurried hand.

It read:

_I have been locked in my room by the voice, by my angel of music! No! He is not really that. It was all a lie! How childish, how foolish I have been! His love frightens me, that almost obsessive worship of me, falling at my feet, kissing the helms of my dress. And those cries and moans, I doubt if I shall ever live a day I do not hear them in my ears.  
Though I fear him, he has some terrible hold on me. He controls me and I am afraid I shall never break free.  
There are times when I do not want to! His music feels me with such ecstasy, such raptures. If I leave him, then I shall never again enjoy those feelings that remind me so much of my dear father.  
I have sitting before me a gun, one that I stole while Erik was out and left me to wander freely. I shall use it should my captor, this madman, stops behaving like a gentleman.  
I would rather die with honor, than suffer disgrace at his hands.  
I hear footsteps! He back and coming towards this very room! I am frightened!_That poor girl! Erik is so unruly and demanding, and Christine was such a simple and pure child. She would not have been able to handle him.  
_  
_I gently folded up the letter, ready to place it back in the drawer.

"What's that you're reading Darcy?" Anna asked, attempting to snatch the letter from from my hand.  
I held it high above her head, trying to choke back my laughter at Anna's jumping and flailing.

"Anna if you don't desist this nonsense this moment…" I threatened, unable to hold back laughing any longer.

"I know something that always works." Anna chortled, hands held out like spiders, taking menacing steps forward."

"Oh no you don't!"

"Oh yes I will." Anna countered, continuing her advancement.

I backed away still laughing. "Anna I'm warning you, if you tickle me I'll-"

She attacked before I could finish speaking. We both fell to the floor in a heap shrieks, laughing and dresses.

Anna was unremitting in her assault.

"Stop! Stop this…very moment…or I'll…or I'll," I shrieked between fits of laughter.

"Give me that paper first."

"Never…I'll not surrender. That is…enough. I said…enough!" I exclaimed more seriously, no longer wanting to continue with this ridicules game.

We both got up still giggling. I hid the letter back in the drawer.

"We're like sisters aren't we Darcy?" Anna asked, tidying up her hair in the mirror.

"We are." I agreed with a smile. "But for now young lady you should rest. Later I will draw you up a nice hot bath. How's that sound?"

"But of course Mademoiselle." Anna replied with a mock bow. She crawled into bed and I tucked her in.  
"He play divinely does he not?"

She asked suddenly, worrying her bottom lip.

"He does."

"Do you think he meant to hurt you?"

I shook my head. "No. I just think he is used to frightening people to get his way."

"Should I try to like him?" Anna asked sleepily. "I will if you believe I should."

"Yes Anna." I kissed the soft forehead. "Rest now."

I returned to the main room, to see if Erik was there. He was not. Disappointed, I walked over to his organ. On the top were an ink tray and scattered papers. I picked up a few examining them. They were compositions, very complicated ones.

A scream shattered the silence. It was coming from behind a black velvet hanging. It no doubt led to Erik's room. I decided to find out what was going on.

Behind the hangings was a long tunnel, dimly lit by a few sconces. I followed it warily. Water droplets and spider webs added to its spooky effect. The tunnel veered off to the right, stopping right in front of a solid wood door.

"Erik?" I called out. "Are you alright?"

No answer.

I tried the doorknob. It was unlocked. The door opened with a slight wining sound. I proceeded tentatively.

I was caught completely off guard by his room; it felt like I had stepped into a funeral room. Black hangings on the wall darkened the room. However, the coffin underneath a canopy hung with red brocade curtains caught my attention. That sight sent a shiver down my spine. _Is that where he sleeps? In a coffin?_ I shuttered again.

I looked around the room further, trying to keep my mind of that horrible coffin.

An organ, smaller than the one in the main room, sat against one wall. Golden candelabras lined its perimeter

My attention was once again drawn to the coffin by the slight moaning sounds emerging from it, followed by another small scream. Erik was having a nightmare.

I walked over to the coffin, disturbed though I was by it, determined to rouse Erik from his sleep.

What I saw repulsed me. Erik without a mask. None of my previous imaging had been sufficient preparations.  
My reflexes kicked into action and I felt a familiar burning sensation tear though my stomach and up my throat, as the bile rose. I forced it back down.  
Half his face looked like the rotting flesh of a corpse. The skin was raw, discolored and swollen. Pus oozed from ulcers on his cheekbone and brows, most likely from rubbing against the mask. His nose was clasped on the left side. I also noted his hair was a sparse and plastered to his skull.

_No wonder he keeps that mask on. _It was truly hideous and I fought back the urge to turn and run from this room. Far away from….from what? Erik? That poor man whose only desire was to be loved from himself?

Remorseful tears stung my eyes as I searched for that white half mask. He would never forgive me if he knew I saw his face.  
Christine ripping off his mask at the Don Juan Triumphant had sent him to he brink of madness; I would not make the same mistake.

I found it flung against a wall, along with his wig. I scooped the mask up tenderly and walked back over to him. I carefully replaced the mask on his face, still barely stomaching the look of it. Now that it was on, I gave him a gentle shake.

Those golden eyes fluttered open and stared up at me, bewildered.

"Wha, happed?" he mumbled still confused.

"It's alright Erik. You were having a bad dream, but I'm here now." I whispered soothingly, massaging his trembling muscular shoulders.

Recognition dawned on his face and he bolted upright, his hands flying to his face. Assured the mask was there, he released the air he was holding.

Erik shifted golden eyes boring into mine. "What are you doing in here?"

"You were having a bad dream. I heard you screaming from the other room, so I came to check on you."

He narrowed his eyes. "Really? Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you come and check on me?"

I knew what he wanted to hear. "Because I wanted to Erik."

My reward was a slight tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Well I'm up now. There's no need for you to hover over my head." he said, quickly returning to his temperamental self.

"Of course Erik." I replied, hiding a smile behind my hand. "Would you like something to eat?"

"Yes…if" He stared at me, eyes round, mouthing slightly agape

"If what?" I prompted.

He dropped his gaze. "IF…if you'll eat…with me."

I laughed this time. "Nothing would please me more."

-0-0-0-0-

Hey, I am getting better with updating on time.  
Don't worry, their happiness wont last long-that's all I'm gonna say.  
Please Review. It keeps me going.  
I need a Beta who is willing to stick with me and offer help and advice.


	17. Progress

Thanks to all who reviewed. I am glad you enjoyed the previous chapter and I hope you like this one just as much.  
I know I am not very good at grammar so bear with me.  
In this chapter, they are making a little progress in their relationship.

Special thanks to: GerrysLittleMissSunshine08 for helping me with this story.  
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_Erik's POV _

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Darcy left with a swish of her olive dress. The moment she stepped out, I sank back into the coffin, expelling the breath I had been holding with a sigh. Relief surged through me like a warm drink of brandy.

I was so fortunate that my mask had been in place when Darcy awakened me. If it had not…I shuddered at the thought of my beloved fleeing in terror at the hideousness of my face. Yet I could not shake off the irritating memory that I had removed the cursed thing and flung it against the wall before falling asleep.  
No matter, it was in place now.

I reached up to comb my fingers through my wig, when the sickening realization hit me. I did not have a wig on! A quick look confirmed that it lay in a heap on the floor. _This is just terrible. _

If the stone floors opened now to swallow me, I would have gladly descended-so great was my shame.

However, I did not have time to dwell on my mortification now; Darcy would be returning any moment.

I forced myself to get up and make the necessary arrangements. I pulled one black Louis-style chair from behind the coffin and a small bench to the center of the room. Next, I dragged over an oval mahogany table and placed it between the seats. I then stood back and admired my work.

I was not sure how long it would take Darcy to fix a meal, therefore I decided to have a seat and wait for her. The only sound in the room was the steady tick-tock of a large brass clock I had brought and placed near the coffin. Its purpose was to count away the minutes of my life as I prepared to die of a broken heart. Of course, death did not come and release me from my agony, yet the clock remained.

I twisted around in my chair growing more and more inpatient as the time dragged by. It seemed Darcy had been gone for an eternity. _What in the devil was taking the woman so long? _  
_  
_A simple meal should not take that long, nor had she gotten lost in the lair. Only one possibility remained. She had tried to leave and found herself lost in the winding tunnels outside. If she was not dead.

I swallowed hard. Images of her caught in one of my clever traps flashed before my eyes.

"No!" I spoke aloud. "She wouldn't try to leave. Not after being so kind to me."

_'That is exactly what's she has done, Erik.' _The voice in my head told me.

My temper flared. "Serves her right if she gets hurt," I growled, "And if she hasn't, well I'll wring that skinny neck of hers."

I found some satisfaction in picturing her squirming against my strength, begging me to be merciful, promising to never wander off again.

Just as I rose to search for that infuriating woman, a sound reached my ears that stopped me, but also warmed my heart. It was Darcy's light footsteps and her gentle humming of a turn from Faust.

I closed my eyes, allowing myself the pleasure of imagining that I should always hear those wonderful sounds; always awaken to her bringing me breakfast.

Darcy's cough brought me out of my musing, but also brought back my irritation.

She sat down the silver tray, seemingly ignorant of my scowl. The tray contained two cups of steaming tea, and smaller cups of sugar and cream. There were also buttered French toast and strawberry tarts.

"What took you so long?" I demanded as she took her seat. "Did you take to daydreaming of your freedom, the day you would be free of the presence of a monster?"

Darcy grimaced, but ignored me and proceeded to drop to lumps of sugar and stir it very slowly, increasing my annoyance.

"Well?" I prompted, mentally preparing myself for some unpleasant response.

She placed a plate before me. "I couldn't find the flour." She explained calmly. "How do you take your tea? And please stop staring at me as if I've grown two heads!"

_It was because she could not find flour. _"Excuse me? Oh my tea. Um, I'll take it with cream only."

"There." she said, setting the teacup and saucer in front of me. "I hope you find the tarts to your liking. I have not made them in a while, you know."

I slowly popped a tart into my mouth. _'Not bad.' _I thought, _'It's actually quite good.' _I greedily stuffed another one into my mouth.

Darcy covered her mouth in an attempt to hide her giggles. "Well I guess you _do_ like them."

We talked about everything and anything during our meal. I told Darcy about many of my inventions and she listened enraptured. Never before had I talked to someone who was interested in me, as a person.  
My fear of boring her and my need to talk made me ramble on and on.

"Am I talking too much?" I asked her between sips of tea.

She shook her head and smiled. "I love listening to you speak. You've such a beautiful, calming voice." she sighed and looked at me with a dreamy expression, her face propped in her hands. "I could listen to you for hours."

I chuckled. "You will get no where with flattery, my dear. But if you continue, I shall become vain and get a very big head."

Darcy teasingly rubbed her fingers across my ungloved hand, sending shivers down my spine. "I will still like you in spite of it."

I caught her fingers and squeezed them tightly. It was the first time I initiated contact between us, "Do you?" I stopped, not sure how to ask her. I tried again, "Do you really like me Darcy?"

She looked me straight in the eyes. "Yes I do." she answered in a clear, sweet voice.

Those three words almost made me weep with joy, but somehow I kept control of my emotions.

I hung my head, "How could you ever love me? I am a monster."

"Hush Erik. You mustn't talk like that!" she scolded. "I see you for what you are. Not a Phantom, nor a ghost. But a man. A wonderful, intelligent, but misunderstood man."

"Oh Darcy!" I exclaimed as I pressed my lips gently to her palm, and then rubbed her hand against my un-marred cheek. I half expected her to draw away disgusted by my sudden show of affection, but to my surprise she did not.

"My offer for friendship still stands, Erik," she whispered while gently withdrawing her hand from mine and wiping away the solitary tear that rolled down my unmarred cheek.

"You are too good." I searched her face lovingly. "What have I done to deserve such an Angel in my life?"

"Lived, that's what you've done." Darcy flashed me a beautiful smile. "I promised to prepare a bath for Anna. Afterward, if it suits you, I would like very much for you to play for me and Anna."

I returned the smile, "Ask mademoiselle and it shall be yours."

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_Darcy's POV _

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I decided to take a nap while Anna bathed, but I found I could not sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, Erik's handsome masked face would haunt me. I allowed myself the pleasure to imagine how it would feel to have his strong muscular arms around me, to feel his sensuous lips crushing down on my own.

I closed my eyes and moaned softly as a delicious shiver tickled my spine.

However, the euphoria did not last long.

'_You silly chit_.' I thought. _'Erik wants only your friendship and nothing more. His heart is too scarred to love again. Therefore, you might as well stop all this silly nonsense. He will never, never be yours.'_

That realization burned through me like a fire, spreading tortuously and leaving me in agony.  
_  
_Frustrated, I turned over and pounded my fist in the pillows. "Curse Christine," I growled in frustration, "Curse her for destroying my Erik."

I knew it would be impossible to get any sleep, so I gave up and decided it best to freshen up before seeing Erik again. Anna entered just as I finished tying my unruly hair in an olive green silk ribbon that matched my dress.

Anna's flushed cheeks and shining golden eyes made her look very pretty. Her hair formed a wild black halo around her head. She walked to my side and wrapped her arms around my shoulder. A small sigh escaped her parted pink lips. I returned the embrace, placing a kiss on her cheek. She smelled of sandalwood.

"Enjoy your bath?" I asked.

"Yes. But the water was too hot. I nearly burned to death in there." she said melodramatically, alternating between frowns and pouts.

I chuckled. "Sorry about that. It is just that we hardly get hot water upstairs, so I thought you might want to take advantage of it. Next time I will make it cooler.

"Alright."

"You want me to help you with your hair?" I offered.

Anna glanced in the mirror in front of me and wrinkled her nose at her reflection. "I _do _look a holy terror, don't I?"

I laughed. "I don't know about holy, but a terror definitely.

Anna rolled her golden eyes and threw her hands up. "Sometime you don't look so good yourself, my friend." she twirled a strand of hair around her fingers. "Besides, I'm not the one trying to impress a man."

"Anna! You little guttersnipe!" I threatened to throw the brush at her.

She ducked around the bed. Only her eyes were visible over the edge, "It's true and you know it Darcy. Deny it! I dare you!"

I could not deny it so I chose to ignore her comment. I stood up and placed my hands on hips, fixing my face with what I hope was a stern expression.

"Come here and sit down if you want your hair done."

Anna burst out laughing, falling over in her merriment.

I was now annoyed. "And what, may I ask, do you find so funny?"

"You look…like a…a governess I once had." she said between giggles. "She was a nasty old thing too."

"I'm sure she was having to deal with the likes of you!" I retorted. _Why me? _"Now get up or I won't help you."

Anna obeyed this time with the occasional chuckle still escaping.

I made her a chignon at the nape of her neck. It made her look slightly older than her twelve years. I stood back to admire my work when a knock sounded on the door. It could only be Erik.

"Come in".

He stuck his head in. "I, uh, brought something for the little girl."

"For Anna?" I asked.

He nodded slowly.

Anna rolled her eyes up at me, a suspicious look in them. "What do you think it is?" she whispered, her voice tinged with excitement.

"I don't know. Why don't you ask him?"

Anna gulped and turned to face Erik. "What is it sir?"

"A dress." At Anna's surprised silence, he continued. "I knew you needed one. I hope it is to your liking and you find the size to be correct. Well, perhaps I'd better set it on the bed."

Erik walked in, his eyes were fixed determinedly on the floor; he placed the large package on the bed and quietly went out.

Anna sunk into her chair the moment the door latched. "I should have said something."

"You should have said 'Thank you'"

She threw a nervous glance at the package wrapped in brown paper. "Should I open it?"

"Of course child!"

Anna hurriedly jumped from her chair and ripped open the package like her life depended on it. "Oh, Darcy look! It's lovely!" she exclaimed, holding out the beautiful gown to herself and twirling around in front of the mirror, admiring the charming picture she made.

The dress was made of velvet and in a dark shade of blue, almost like the color of the night sky. It was trimmed in gold and opened in the front to reveal shimmering gold satin that was decorated with blue ribbons and bows. It was clearly made in the latest Parisian style.

I helped Anna to put on the dress. It was almost a perfect fit for the girl's slender frame.

She was enraptured with her good fortune. "I haven't had anything this fine in such a long time! I'm sorry now that I almost shot him."

She continued to chatter, but it fell on deaf ears as I was wrapped up in my musing.

It made me smile to picture Erik going through the little shops above, trying to find a dress for a twelve-year-old girl. I highly doubted his ability to accomplish such a difficult feat. Girls that age where usually hard to please. _Moreover, how did he manage to find just the right size?  
_

Perhaps he had Madame Giry to help. She would know what girls liked, since she had to manage a whole troop of them.

"Darcy…do you think he'll forgive me?"

"What?" I came out of my thought in just enough time to catch the question. "Oh, yes. I think he shall."

"Good."

"Erik is to play for us. How would you like that?"

Anna smiled again, "Oh! Very much so! I've heard him play once. It was as if the angels were playing. I nearly cried, you know."

_That I could imagine._

I pushed myself from against the stone wall and offered Anna my hand. We went out together to the main room, where Erik was sitting in front of his piano, waiting to once again draw his audience into his fantastic world of music.

The rest of that evening was more enjoyable then I imagined it would be. Anna was still shy with Erik and he was awkward with her, but other than that, I believe we managed just fine.

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Like it? Love it? Disappointed?  
Please review and let me know. I shall look forward to reading them.


	18. Too Many Emotions

sA/N: Thanks for reviewing! You guys all rock!

I'm sorry for the delay in updating but my computer crashed and I've been really busy. Thanks for being patient and sticking with this story and hopefully I'll get better at updating on time. J

Disclaimer: I lay no claims to the Phantom of the Opera ors its characters. Though I wouldn't mind owning Erik. (Smiling to self and rubbing hands greedily)

Thanks so much GerrysLittleMissSunshine08 for being such a great Beta!

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Darcy's POV

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Many little changes occurred during the last three days. The biggest, at least to me, was the difference in Erik and Anna's attitude toward each other.

Anna went from being thoroughly frightened and hateful toward Erik, to being completely besotted with him. At night she would talk of little else. Of course, she found a willing listener in me, for I was as besotted as Anna.

Erik seemed entranced by the little girl, who was so like himself. I think their similar temperament and behavior drew him, not to mention that they resembled each other physically. I admit that they could easily have been taken as father and child.

I would often catch him staring at her when he thought no one was looking. But some of his fascination stemmed from Anna's strong, clear and sweet voice.

He would often request the girl to sing for him, while he played thunderous and passionate songs on his organ. Those two were magnificent together. I would watch and listen enraptured, while swaying gently on the edge of my seat. Those were the most enjoyable times I had ever experienced.

I knew exactly what Erik was thinking whenever his golden eyes alighted on Anna. Here was another protégée for him. Someone he could mold and work on and transform, until he made her what he wanted his former lover, Christine Daae, to be. A glorious soprano who would take Opera by storm.

Except he wouldn't fall in love with this one. Nor could he deceive her into believing he was some mystical Angel of Music.

Erik had taken advantage of Christine's naïve and trusting nature, as well as her strong belief that her father would send her the Angel of Music. For years, since she was a child, that poor, innocent girl actually thought Erik was her Angel of Music. I learned that much through all the gossip I heard upstairs.

Though Anna appeared delicate and easily swayed, I knew the girl had a good head on her shoulders. She was as shrewd and cautious as Erik himself. Anna was wise for her age because she had experienced a difficult time after her mother died, that much I was able to pry from her. One had to be treading carefully with those two for if they sensed you getting too close, they would withdraw into themselves.

As for myself, I had always thought I was the kind of girl that could keep her feelings in check and continue with life no matter what.

But ever since that day I found out Erik was my beloved Monsieur E, I started to doubt my disposition as my emotions threatened to drag me into a whirlwind passion and longing I couldn't control. I was actually quite surprised to learn about that side of my nature.

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Frustrated that I could not focus, I closed the book that lay on my lap. It was a gift from Erik, who told me it was written by an undiscovered writer.

When I questioned how he came in position of the book. He merely looked down his porcelain nose at me, saying he had his sources and I really shouldn't concern myself with them. I smiled at the thought for Erik was really quite conceited.

I placed the book on the writing desk and straightened out the simple navy blue dress I had selected from among the clothing Erik bought for Christine. A quick glance in the mirror assured me I looked presentable, before I went in search of Erik and Anna.

I found them in the main room; Erik at the Organ playing fiercely ; Anna standing nearby, trying to sing a impossibly high note.

Erik stopped playing and glared at Anna. "You are doing it wrong!" he thundered. "Stop trying to force it. Your voice is like a lover, it has to be coaxed and persuaded. Now try again."

Anna's shoulders sagged and she let out a huff. "I'm tired. I want to stop. I've been singing for two hours!" she held up two fingers for emphasis. "Two hours! I shall not have a voice to coax and persuade if I keep singing!"

" I don't care if you sang all day and night .You will not lose your voice over practice. You will not stop! How do you expect to ever be great if you give up? Now start from the beginning!!"

Anna put her hands on hips and fixed him with a threatening glare.

"Now!" he roared. "Do you want to be another La Carlotta?"

"La who?"

"Never mind."

I cleared my throat to catch their attention. Anna turned and flew into my arms with a sob. "He's mean!"

I kissed her forehead and turned toward Erik. "I think she should have a break."

He started to protest, but I interrupted. "You need one too, for that matter." I seized the moment to voice an idea I had. "Erik, I should like very much to take a walk outside. Not that I don't enjoy being down here," I said quickly as he frowned. "But fresh air will do us all some good."

He folded his arms across his chest. "No!"

"Erik! Why ever not?"

"I advise you not to question me." he said a little too calmly.

I threw up my hands in exasperation. "For heaven sakes! Are we to be your prisoners?" I regretted asking that question immediately.

Erik grimaced. "I did not ask you to follow me! I did not ask for your help! You came of your own free will. Your own free will! Like her!" His voice rose to a higher pitch. "She came of her own free will too! I swear I did not force her!" He turned and brought his fist down hard on his organ causing it to make a harsh violent sound that echoed through the room.

" I swear I did not force her." he repeated slowly as a sobbed escaped his lips and he buried his masked face in his hands.

I felt Anna cling to me from behind as my heart fluttered painfully and hot tears stung my eyes. I was emotional where Erik was involved.

Erik looked up and noticed my tears as he made a visible effort to calm himself. " You and the child are not my prisoners. I shall take you back up, if you wish. It is oblivious you no longer want to be here with pitiful Erik."

I un-wrapped Anna's arms and rushed over to Erik. I dropped down beside his bench. He looked down at me, his golden eyes cold.

I grasped both his hands and searched his face. "Listen to me Erik, I would never leave you. I would not want to leave you." I replied as I placed tender kisses on his hands and felt him shudder. "But please Erik, I miss the sunshine, the fresh air, the sights and sounds of the above world. I am not asking you to make an appearance in broad daylight, a night stroll will be fine. I want you to go with me so I can be near you."

Erik didn't say anything, but I could tell he was warring with himself. He finally shook his head. I heaved a sigh of defeat, deciding I would rather be with him, than lose him, though at the moment I felt like strangling Erik with his own lasso for causing me such much turmoil. "If go out it makes you unhappy, then I shall be content here. I-" I paused as I couldn't bring myself to say how I felt since I was unsure of his feelings.

"I want you to be happy." I confessed as rubbed his hands against my cheek.

He pulled his hands away and cupped my face. "You have made Erik the happiest of men! No one, not even my poor own mother, have said sweeter words to me. Erik shall do whatever you ask, even die if you command it."

A warm pleasant feeling washed over me. "Oh, Erik!"

He gave me slight smile. "We can go tonight. Yes, it shall be such a fine night!"

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Erik POV

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I was in a state of euphoria. Every movement, every word, every look seem to be a dream, a dream that I was afraid I would awaken from at any moment, only to find myself still lying in my God forsaken coffin. Alone. After having indulged myself in the delights of company, the thought of being alone frightened me more than I expected.

But I was not dreaming. I was not alone. The warmth and pressure from Darcy's hand and the soft steps of Darcy and Anna echoing in the dark tunnel as I led them out told me I was not dreaming. The woman I loved more than anything in this world was mere inches away, clinging to my hand as if I were her lifeline.

The tunnel we traversed led to a back alley, were we would not be conspicuous. I opened the door and stepped out into the clear, crisp night. Darcy and Anna stepped out behind me.

The alley, lighted by the full moon, was completely empty except for us, as I knew it would be.

I spun around. "Wait here. I'll bring the carriage around." I left them to fetch the carriage I had prepared earlier.

As I brought the carriage round, a sickening thought it me. _What they weren't there waiting_? Even though I had sensed an attraction between us, I was also painfully aware that she only remained in my home because she did not know the way out.

Perhaps her kindness and attention had been no more that some vile feminine trick to make me trust her. And I had fallen right into it! _Fool! _my mind then shouted. _You actually thought she could love you?_

I had thought it and hoped and dreamed it. And I had allowed myself to do what I vowed I never would. I fell in love, with a woman who had the power to reduce me to nothing. If she was not there I knew I would sink into a hell from which I would never recover.

I pulled behind the alley and stepped down. A large cloud now covered the moon, darkening everything. I could just see the outlines of objects.

"Darcy? Anna?" My voice echoed. I waited. No answer. My heart was now pounding fiercely against my chest. This couldn't be happening! _It has. She has left you because she could no longer bear your horrible presence. _My mind tormented me with those horrible thoughts.

Tears suddenly blurred my vision has I stumbled toward were I left them.

Suddenly I was caught in an embrace. Arms wrapped tightly around my waist, a warm body pressed deliciously against mine and lips gently skimmed my neck. _This isn't happening, surely Darcy hadn't just purposely thrown her arms around me._

It was the first time I held a woman in my arms. My heart nearly stopped and my breathing became erratic. Unsure of what to do, I carefully placed my arms around her and allowed myself to experience the delightful sensations of holding someone you love so close.

"I must be dreaming." I murmured, holding her an arms length away.

"Your not." she whispered correcting me.

The moon appeared again, its light casting a gentle glow on everything. I could now see her face more clearly. She was flushed and her eyes downcast.

"What happened?" I managed to ask. I was sure something must have frightened her badly to force her into my arms.

She sighed at the ground. " it is nothing."

I shook my head in disbelief. "You cling to me as if I were just resurrected from the dead and nothing happened?! You'd better speak the truth."

Darcy chewed her bottom lip, eyes still downcast. "I…well… just missed you, that's all."

I stared at her dumbly. Surely I hadn't heard correctly. "What?"

This time Darcy's beautiful green eyes met mine. "I said I missed you."

I was completely shocked. She had actually missed my horrible presence! I backed away from her until I reached the wall. "How could you? I was scarcely gone twenty minutes."

Darcy came toward me. She grasped my hand and raised it to her cheeks. "It seemed like so much longer."

Too many emotions assailed me at once. This was too sudden. I couldn't breathe, or stand, or even think for that matter. My mind was in a trance. My mouth moved, but it couldn't form one coherent sentence. I just continued to stare at her as if she were crazy. Slowly I slid down the brick wall, stopping only when I was firmly seated on the ground. I looked up at her. "You don't know what you are saying! You don't know what I've done!"

I rose up as my self-hate brought back renewed energy. "I have killed people! Do you not understand? I kidnapped a young woman and tried to force her to marry me! I threatened to kill her lover! If ever there were a great sinner on earth, it is I! How could you miss that?"

Darcy looked pained. She reached out and rested her hands on my sleeve. "Because I know the person behind the mask, Erik. And I want to know more about him, if only you'd let me."

I knew I had to stop her now, before she could invest more of her feelings into a monster not deserving of her love. And as much as I wanted to pull her to me, press her tightly against my body, and kiss those soft inviting lips, I didn't, because she deserved better ,far better than me. I almost laughed at the irony of it all. This was the second time I let someone I love go, I who had always been so selfish, who always got what I wanted, was now willing to let all I ever wanted go. And because she had offered herself willing, made me even more determined that I would not drag her into my hell.

I harshly yanked my arm from beneath her hand. "It is not wise of a woman to hint her feelings to a man who may not return them."

She gave me such a look of horror and misery that I wanted to rip out the cursed tongue that made her feel so. But I knew it was for the best.

"Erik, you surely don't mean…"

I cut her off. "I do mean every word I say. Now let that be the end of the matter. I wish to hear no more."

She turned her face away , not before I caught sight of the tears gliding down her cheeks, and walked over to Anna, who I realized had been watching the entire time. I felt ashamed of my behavior, but my mind was made up.

"If you still wish to ride…" I nodded toward the carriage.

She kept her back toward me. "Yes Monsieur. If it will not inconvenience you."

Our trip the gardens were scarcely the romantic image I had imagined. For the most part Darcy limited her conversation to Anna, addressing me only when she felt necessary. After a while I grew annoyed and chose to sit down while they continued their scroll.

The time alone was enough to make regret my hasty actions. Why was I turning my back on the one person who could give me the greatest happiness and joy I had ever known? '_Because she would only grow to hate you.' _

I told myself. I couldn't bear to watch the tenderness I saw shining unguarded in her eyes turn to cold rejection and hatred. I buried my face in my hands and cried until I felt numb. My mind continued to play back those moments when she had kissed my hands, these cold murdering hands, her promise to be content in the opera bowels with me, her warm loving embrace.

_Could I really bear to let her go? To spend the rest of my miserable life with her? This was one of the hardest decisions I ever had to make. _

_After we returned back to my home ,Darcy immediately excused herself and went to her room. I headed for my organ, determined to relieve my feelings through music. _

_Anna followed me. As soon as I was seated she spoke, her voice accusing. "You have hurt her, you know. How could you?"_

_I turned towards her. "I'm not going to discuss this with you."_

"_I tried to warn her that you were no good," she heaved a sigh, "But she wouldn't listen."_

_I brought my fist down on the organ. "Just go away!"_

"_I hope you know you are a fool!" she spat. "You don't deserve her love, you horrible cold-hearted creature!"_

_I had enough. I sprang from bench, caught Anna by the arms, and ignoring the alarm in her wide eyes, proceeded to give her good shaking. "Listen you little brat, what I'm doing is for her own good. Do you understand? For her! For her happiness! She could never be happy with me. Never! You little ignorant fool! You'll never know the depth of my feelings!" _

_I couldn't hold the tears back now. "She means so much to me! So much!" I was choking on my tears, the mask was suffocating. "I have to let her go. There is no other way. No other way! Can't you see?!" _

_I released her. Anna looked up at me with golden tear-filled eyes. "I'm sorry!" she wrapped her arms around my waist and I didn't have the heart to push her away. "But please Erik, you must not let her go. We can all be together. The three of us. Please Erik!"_

_I gave her a gentle squeeze. "Good night Anna." I seated myself at my organ. Anna came and stood beside it. "I'm not tired. Besides I think Darcy needs to be alone for now. Perhaps I could sing a little."_

"_I am in no mood for your singing. If you wish you may go into the library and entertain yourself ."_

_She nodded. "Good night then Erik."_

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_Doesn't Erik make you want to slap him sometimes. I hope I've kept him character. So will Darcy give up on this difficult man or still attempt to find a way to make him accept his self and their love?_

_Don't forget to review and let me know what you think. _


	19. Roland

A/N: I am eternally grateful for all the reviews I received. Thanks to everyone who kindly commented on my chapter. It is such a relief to know my Erik is in character. I promised drama and I hope this chapter lives up to that promise. A sliver of dark Erik in this chapter.

Special thanks to GerrysLittleMissSunshine08 for helping me with this chapter! You've done a great job so far!

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Darcy's POV

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I lay in bed that night trying to make sense of all that had happened. It was all so confusing; especially Erik's sharply uttered words which had cut right into my heart.

How had I misinterpreted his earlier behavior? Everything he did before seem to suggest he had feelings for me. I had even convinced myself that Erik had fallen in love with me.

I allowed my thoughts traveled back to when I had first become acquainted with the Opera Legend. I refused to think of him as Phantom or Opera Ghost. His small act of kindness had touched me deeply. I felt perhaps I had found a friend to share my cold lonely world. That solitary red rose seemed to confirm my feeling. I could smell its gentle fragrance now. The next day, along with gifts, there laid a short letter that sparked our friendship. We frequently exchanged letters and soon we were expressing our innermost thoughts and feelings towards one another.

His letters hinted at a man lonely and desperate for companionship. He seemed so happy to have me correspond with him; he showered me with gifts I considered luxuries. I, in return, poured my heart and soul into those letterers.

"Yet it obviously meant nothing to him." I whispered bitterly into the darkness.

There were also the moments we shared after our meeting that lead me to believe he cared. I was very much aware of his eyes following me whenever I was in his presence and also his expressions of happiness at having me near. Why just tonight he had told me I made him the happiest of men!

I tortured myself by mentally replaying those times we enjoyed together.

What had gone wrong? Why did he so suddenly turn cold and cruel?

I clung to my tear-soaked pillow as if it would somehow give me strength.

Why do I even care? In my heart I knew why. Because this was not the Erik I loved, he would not act like that without a very good reason. Yes Erik could be difficult, conceited, rude and arrogant, but just plain evil he was not.

Erik, I felt, was incapable of leading someone on just for the sake of his own vanity or pleasure. Could it be that he thought I was leading him on? But there was really no logical motive for me to do so. How much good would it do a woman to be associated with a man who people believed was a spawn of the devil?

I made a promise to myself that I would find the reason for his behavior, even if it drove us both insane. And I was sure I would succeed in at least in driving one of us crazy. Though Erik could expect to be thoroughly disappointed if he thinks I would grovel at his feet like some dog. I still maintained some dignity.

I heard Anna come in sometime later, but I pretended to be asleep. My mood was at its sourest rendering me unfit to be good company. Anna seems to understand this for she crawled into bed beside me, without saying a word, and went promptly to sleep.

I don't know how long I lay in bed tossing and turning between fits of sleep disturbed by nightmares, but finally I had enough.

I got out bed, slipping on the white and gold embroidered robe Erik had graciously provided and stepped into matching fur slippers. I walked out into main room, which was quiet and dark except for one lit candle standing on Erik's organ and the gentle sloshing of the lake against the stone shore.

Tonight the lake was disturbed and had taken on a blackish hue. The light shining down from above caste a eerie glow on its shining surface. I noted this with interest because the lake usually looks quite romantic, but now it strangely appeared to reflect the tension and discontent of the lair's occupants.

I sat down at Erik's organ picked out a simple tune that my mother had taught me. It brought memories of her back so strongly. She would often play while I sat besides her watching her in with love and admiration. Bitterness and resentment rose to the surface, threatening to overwhelm me. I was torn away from the people I loved most…my life ripped apart because others refused to accept what they thought was different! How cruel the world could be!

I consoled myself with the thought that my parents and two brothers were out there somewhere, hopefully alive.

"Mother, mother where are you when I need you most?" I sighed forcing back tears.

I sat there for a few more minutes before my stomach reminded me that I hadn't ate in hours.

Just I turned away in to search for something to eat my attention was caught by what seemed to be a cry. I froze, straining to hear. Everything was silent. I was about to dismiss it as fanciful imagining when I heard it again. It was a slight wailing sound and this time I was sure it was a cry for help.

I frantically searched for Erik but he was nowhere to be found, so I decided to investigate alone. It did occur to me that it could be a trap, thought if it were, I was sure it wouldn't be used against me. It would be for 'La Fantome!' They would conclude I was one of Erik's victims and would no doubt do their best to help me. On the other hand, it could be someone who was hurt and needed help.

Perhaps some would consider my actions foolish but I could not stand the thought of leaving someone to suffer in the dark alone.

I ran over to the lake since it was the only way I knew out; it was then I noticed, to my dismay, that the boat was gone. That meant Erik had left and I was alone to face whatever lay ahead.

Fortunately the lake had stone walkways running along both sides of it. To be sure I wouldn't get lost I went back to the kitchen and collected some flour in a sack. I would use it to mark my way. I grabbed a lantern and walked out, taking the left walkway.

Erik would be furious at me for wandering outside the lair alone. No doubt he will rant and rave and lecture me about the danger of getting lost, hurt or killed. I clutched the sack of flour closer. At least I took precautions. And if turned out there was no one, and then Erik need never learn about my little escapade.

Even if he did find out, I felt could rely on my own anger at him to give me courage and strength to face his wrath.

I did not venture far before another cry shattered the silence. It sounded somewhere close.

"Who's there?" I called out while still walking.

"I need help!" A man screamed. "Please can you help me?" I heard the pain and panic in his voice.

"I'm coming," I shouted back, "Keep talking so I can find you."

"Here! I'm here!"

I cautiously followed his voice until I came to a tunnel that branched off. I held the lantern higher. Delicate patterns of spider webs blockaded the entrance. Erik obviously did not use this particular tunnel.

I brushed the clinging webs aside and stepped inside. A putrid order assailed my nostrils and dripping water echoed somewhere.

"Here!" the man called out. A quivering shadow was pressed into the wall. I rushed over to the huddled figure. My stomach knotted at the sigh. Blood was everywhere. . My heart went out the poor man clasped on the floor. I knelt down beside him. The man looked up at me with eyes glazed over in pain.

"Please get me out of here!" He reached out and grabbed hold of my hand. "Before…" he paused and looked fearfully around him before leaning toward me. "Before the ghost comes!

So Erik had something to do with this man's present condition.

"It is going to be alright. No ghost will harm you, I promise." I said as calmly as possible, though I felt anything but that at the moment. I gently brushed at his dark hair from his bloodied forehead. "Do you think you can stand?"

His grip on my hand tightened. "I've…already tried. My leg…it may be…broken."

"You can't very well stay here. I'll help you. It isn't a very long walk."

He nodded and I stood, bracing myself for his weight. The first two tries were failures.

He then sank back to the ground in defeat.

The man shook his head despair. "It's…hopeless!' He wheezed, "My legs…their useless!"

"You can not give up! I won't let you. You need help and I can not properly give it here."

He looked up at me and I gave him a brave smile. "Now come on and try again."

This time he was able to stand and I wrapped my arms around his waist, steadying him.

Even when he was leaning on me I could tell he was quite tall and lean, maybe somewhere close to Erik's size. Slowly we made our way back. We stopped twice for a rest.

"That's it. Almost there." I encouraged whenever he started to go limp in my arms.

Once safely inside the lair I helped the man into the black swan bed. My bringing a stranger into Erik's home, then laying him on his bed would probably upset Erik, but I didn't have any other option.

I lit several candles and was dismayed to find my hands and robe covered in blood.

No time to think about that now. I walked over to examine my patient.

He was quite a handsome man, perhaps in his early twenties. His dark completion was set off by the white shirt and tan pants tucked into black boots that he wore. His features reminded me of a Greek statue I had seen in a book, with full lips, a wide forehead and beautiful dark deep-set eyes. His thick wavy hair gleamed black in the candlelight.

His injurious were serious but not life threatening. He had bruised on almost every visible part of his body and had a deep cut on his temple. His shirt was ripped and bloodied and his left foot was twisted at an odd angle suggesting that it was broken. A large dirty gash ran down the length of his left arm.

After gathering whatever I could find I returned. As I reached out to unbutton his shirt he caught my hand.

"I want to thank you for helping me. I don't know what would have happened to if you hadn't come."

"You are welcome."

"What, may I ask, is the name of my heroine?" He gave me a slight smile.

"I'm Darcy LeClerc. And you are…?"

"Roland. Roland Delmas. I work up there. Where are we? Is this where you live?" he asked his eyes wide as he took in the strangeness of an underground lair. "This is really magnificent! I've never seen anything like it!"

There was no way to explain the lair without bringing up Erik and frightening Roland to death, so I chose to ignore his question. "You work up there? What do you do?"

He gave me an odd look that I could not interpret. "I am a baritone singer."

"Really! How nice! You have not been here long?"

"For only one week. This is my first time working in an Opera house! Ouch!" He winced as I rubbed alcohol onto the cut on his arm.

"I'm sorry, but it is necessary. How did you manage to get yourself in this condition?" I asked while examining his ankle. The ballet brats, as Erik often referred to the little ballerinas had sometimes ended up with broken bones, so I knew a little something about it from observance.

Roland laughed. "By my own folly and curiosity I am afraid. They say there is a ghost, a Phantom! They say that it roams this place and creates all sorts of mischief! The very same one that burnt down this place a few years ago! But perhaps you already know about that."

"I've heard a few things about him."

"Whenever any mention of Phantom is made the men would ball up their fists and mutter angrily and the women would tremble. You could see the terror in shining in their eyes! I thought they were a pitiful superstitious lot. Or at least I thought that until I saw him myself."

I listened to him intently. "You saw him?"

"Yes. I was doing a little exploring you see, when I notice a tall figure dressed completely in black pop out of nowhere! I called to him, but received no answer. So I decided to follow him."

"What then?"

"He disappeared! Just like that!" he said with a snap of his fingers.

"But that doesn't explain how you ended hurt!"

"I'm coming to that part. I walked over to where I last saw him. Then whoosh! Down I plunged into darkness! I hit several sharp objects that protruded from the walls. That's what cut my arm." He gazed at his now bandaged arm. "Then I hit the bottom and was out! That's where you found me."

I knew he fell into one of Erik's trap doors. Had not I often heard Erik referred to as the trap door lover? Where was Erik anyway? How would Erik react to finding a strange man in his home? I thought of the situation four years ago, especially the night that cost Erik to lose his grip on sanity. It resulted in death and destruction. I prayed this would not push him over the edge again.

I glanced nervously at the lake entrance. There was no sign of Erik's return, but my resolve to remain strong was crumbling quickly. I almost wished I hadn't rescued Roland, but seeing the gratitude and admiration shining in his eyes assured me I had done the right thing.

I smiled at Roland. "At least you are alive. I'll wager you'll think twice about following strangers."

He laughed. "Especially ones in black cloaks! You know Darcy… may I call you by your name?"

"Of course. And I shall call you Roland, if it is fine with you."

"Good! You know I don't feel like we are strangers. I don't feel at all uneasy in your company though you could decide to turn against me and I would be quit helpless in preventing it.

I nodded in agreement. What he said was true. I found him easygoing and pleasant.

"I feel exactly the same. Would you like a cup of tea Roland?"

"That would be nice. Maybe it will help me relax and ease some of this pain."

I changed out of my nightgown into a simple dark grey dress, then went and prepared two cups of tea and light meal consisting of cold meats and bread. I gave Roland his cup and pulled a chair nearby to him.

Roland took a sip of tea. "So are you going to tell me what this place is?"

I waived my hand dismissively. "It isn't polite to pursue a subject that your hostess obviously wishes to avoid. A gentleman such as yourself should know better." I replied lightheartedly.

He grinned saucily. "Ah, my dear lady you may be correct, but as your guest I am entitled to a little information about my temporary residence. Do you live here alone?"

"Well actually…" Before I could finish a voice thundered behind me.

"Allow me, please, the pleasure of answering your question, sir!"

Erik!

I watched as Roland jumped in surprise and then turn pale, his dark eyes widening in horror. I stiffened, mentally trying to prepare myself for whatever I was about to face.

I rose and turned to Erik who stood near the lake. I couldn't help but notice that he looked elegant and distinguished in his completely black attire.

I also noted that despite the calm expression Erik wore a dangerous glint in those burning golden eyes and the tension in his body. There was something dark and sinister about him that frightened me. Perhaps it was the way he looked Roland and me. We were all silent…waiting. I couldn't stand it anymore so I spoke.

"Erik! I'm glad you are back!"

Erik approached me by stopping only inches away. The affect of having him so near was dizzying. He lifted my chin until I was looking right into his eyes.

"Are you really glad?" He whispered into my ears, his hands running caressingly down my arms. I shivered from the contact.

Instinctively I leaned toward him, my eyes never leaving his. "Of course I've missed you." I whispered.

Without warning Erik jerked back as if burned. "Liar!" He screamed, "You couldn't wait till I was gone! You were counting the seconds till I left and you could be rid of me for a while!"

"That's not true!" I cried. "Please allow me to explain what happened!"

Erik laughed hysterically, his flashing eyes darting wildly from me to Roland. "I do not need you to explain anything! I can see it clearly with my own eyes! The first time I leave you alone this is what you do! You could not wait for me to leave so you could sneak your little lover down here! So you could indulge yourself in a secret rendezvous with your young man! It seems like he wasn't very successful in getting down here! That spoiled your plans, did it not?" He laughed again.

I went over to him and pulled desperately on his coat sleeve. "Please listen to me! You must!"

Erik stumbled backwards as if I were poisonous. "Do not touch me! Stay away you little lying Delilah! You disgusting wench! You whore!"

His words seared through me like a scorching fire. But I did not feel the pain, only the hot rage that consumed me. He had no right to accuse and insult me without finding out the truth!

"How dare you say such things to me?!" I screamed at him, "Everyone is right about you! You are a beast!"

Before I was aware of what I was doing, I marched over to Erik and slapped the unmasked side of his face as hard as I could.

We were both startled by what I had done. I didn't know what to say and Erik just stared in disbelief, his gloved hand instantly going to his reddened cheek.

Then suddenly, before I had time to react, Erik reached out and caught me by the elbow. He roughly hauled me in front of him and walked me into another room. I was dimly aware that I had never seen this room before, but was too disturbed too pay any real attention to my surrounding. The only thing my mind registered was that the room appeared to be a some sort of workshop and there was a bright electric chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

Erik slammed the door behind us and leaned against it as if to prevent my leaving should I try. I searched his face, trying to read his expression to see what he was thinking. But his face was blank, except for the coldness in his eyes.

"Erik please speak to me!" I cried desperately, "Say something!"

Erik pushed himself away from the door, but remained silent. He came towards me with deliberate menacing steps, his gloved hands balled into fists at his side.

I stared at him in horror and fear. What was he going to do!? My heart pounded violently in my chest and my breathing became shallow.

My eyes unwilling fixed on his white mask. I could see nothing else. It seemed to float towards me like some angry ghost bent on revenge. At that moment I was not facing Erik, but the Phantom of the Opera. For the first time I understood young Christine Daae's fear and dismay. It could be that she had loved Erik, as I do now, but was unable to deal with this frightening side of him that surfaced whenever he felt what was his was being taken from him. The Phantom, as I now called this distinct personality, had emerged when young Raoul de Chagny had arrived on the scene and ruined his plans. Now once again, the Phantom had reawakened.

Was I strong enough to handle him or would I choose to flee as Christine had? I didn't know the answerer and I was afraid to find out the truth. Afraid that knowing would devastate us both.

Erik would never hurt anyone, but the person I faced now was more than capable of terrorizing and destroying.

I felt suddenly light-headed; the room spun uncontrollably sending me into terrifying dizziness. I shaded my eyes from the light that was becoming more intense and painful. Then I was plummeted into darkness.

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And there you have a cliffhanger! So, my dear readers, what do you think? About Roland…and Erik's behavior? I think Darcy may be doubting their relationship or at least her capacity to handle it.  
What is going to happen next?  
This story is taking a life of its own. Even I don't know what's going to happen next! Well sort of.  
Please review and let me know what you think of this little turn in events.  
Feel free to offer suggestions and advice. I will do my best to listen and follow them.

I know some of you are wondering about what connection Anna and Erik have. Well I will say they are related, though You probably already guessed that. That's all I'm going to reveal right now.


	20. Chapter 20

I want to thank all my loyal readers for sticking with this story…even though it has often taken me awhile to update. My last Beta did not respond…So I'm looking for a new one. But I really need a Beta who is going to stick with me no matter what…even if I take a bit of time between updates.

I hope you enjoy this chapter!

I do not own the Phantom of the Opera, though I wish I did.

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Erik's POV

I stared mortified as the object of my affections first paled and then fell to the floor in a heap of gray material.

The poor girl had fainted because I insisted on behaving like a monster or, as Darcy so easily put it, a beast! Knowing that I had frightened her to that point hurt me more than I could bear.

I bent down and picked Darcy up the carried her over to the work bench where I gently placed her.

Her peaceful face gave no indication of what she just had to deal with though I did notice a small red lump on her left temple. It was no doubt caused by that stubborn head of hers coming into contact with the stone floor.

"Serves her right!" I growled while pacing the room like a caged lion.

I stopped and messaged my throbbing temple. My day and progressed from bad to worse. It started with me paying a long overdue visit to the upper world. I knew without my supervision or, at times, intervention the whole opera house would run to rubbish. Those fool managers would be paying more attention to those little silly ballet rats than to managing my opera house. And not to mention the entire crew would be freely indulging in unacceptable behavior.

Once above ground I found things exactly has I had predicted though all that was required was a few tricks to show them that the Phantom of the Opera was still in charge. After I had set everything right I made back to my lair.

My desire to see Darcy and to make amends with her quickened my steps. I repeatedly told myself that all I wanted was to be sure that we remained friends and nothing more. That was me trying to convince myself of a lie.

The truth was I wanted far more than her friendship. I wanted her love, though hoping that could ever be possible would only lead to greater pain and disappointed. But all thoughts ceased the moment I stepped on shore and heard voices engaged in a friendly conversation. That had stopped me dead in my tracks and the familiar feeling of rejection and anger darkened my soul once again.

Over and over again I told myself that this could not be happening.

But my eyes and ears, which have never failed me, told me it was true. After that I lost all reason. All remembrance of what followed escapes me except that stinging slap Darcy delivered to my face. No doubt it was to bring me to my senses but it had quite the opposite affect. It only served heightened my anger.

The only thing that drugged me out of my blinding rage was the sight of her laying helpless and vulnerable on the floor. Then my thoughts turned to that handsome boy sitting in the other room and all my fury came rushing back like a deadly tidal wave.  
That fool girl had no right to bring him here! Did she not know it would anger me? Of course she did! But obviously did not care enough about my feelings to restrain herself.

Frustrated, I grabbed the nearest object to me which happened to be a chair and sent it hurling towards a wall. A satisfying crash resulted but it did little to calm me. I reached for another item and then another.

"Curse Women!" I growled while eying the mess I had just made. "Curse them all!"

My experience with women had taught me one thing: That they were all nothing more than heartless selfish creatures who only served as a source of distraction and pain.  
My own poor mother could not find enough courage in her heart to feel some sort of affection for her own deformed child. And then Christine, my beloved angel, who had seem so pure and innocent, had found a way to betray me for another man. Even the woman I trusted the most, Antoinette Giry, turned against me. And now I was on the verge of losing Darcy.

I sat down on the bench beside Darcy and buried my face in my hands. Tears for what I had lost flowed like small streams down my cheek. I felt myself being pulled into a chasm of misery from which I would not be able to escape.

Eventually I became aware of a soft voice gently calling my name. I turned to see Darcy's large exotic green eyes staring up at me with uncertainty and fear shining in them. Her parted lips quivered slightly.

Knowing she was still frightened and mistrustful of me caused a dull aching in my chest.

"I am here. How are you feeling?" I asked cautiously unsure of where I stood with her.

Darcy struggled to sit up but collapsed back onto the bench with groan. "Dizzy." she whispered.

I nodded. "That is to be expected. Do you feel any pain?"

"My head…" Darcy's exploring fingers came into contact with the lump and a surprised "Ouch!" escaped her lips.

"You've hit it." I explained. I'll get an ice pack for your head." I stood to leave but hesitated when I thought of that unwanted person sitting in the other room. I wracked my mind for an excuse to stay because I was afraid that upon seeing that boy my temper may get the best of me and I would be tempted to do something less than pleasant to him.

"Do you think you'll be alright alone?" I asked hoping to delay my departure.

A narrowed pair of eyes answered my question and promptly dashed my hope to pieces. I turned on my heels and left without giving her another look.

I had to pass directly in front of the boy to reach the kitchen where I kept most of my medical supplies.

I avoided looking at him and he remained silent as I passed, though I could feel is dark eyes following my every move. I seriously considered turning around and making sure that he never stared at me or anything else for that matter.

Once in the kitchen I quickly retrieved the necessary things and hurried back to Darcy. I entered to find her sitting up and looking slightly better.

"Here." I held out the ice pack. Darcy's finger lightly brushed against mine as she took the ice pack from my hand. Her eyes flickered to mine and I found myself drawn into their depths.

The expression shining in them was one of sweet innocence. Christine had often gazed at me with that same look, even as she betrayed me by giving her heart to another man.

I stiffened. I would not play the fool twice.

I took a deep breath to steady myself. "I think it is best if I take you to your room." I said through clenched teeth.

"Yes of course." Darcy rose slowly. "Erik?"

"What?" I asked harshly.

Darcy took a small step forward. "Are you very angry with me?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

I remained silent and instead fixed her with a withering glare.

Darcy flinched but kept her searching eyes focused on my face. "Erik, I am so sorry. I know how it must have looked to you but it's not what you think. He was hurt, Erik! What was I supposed to do? Leave him there to suffer whatever fate had in store for him?"

"Yes."

Now it was her turn to give me a disapproving look. "Well I am not that sort of person. And I don't understand how you could justify leaving an innocent person to there to suffer and die!" she shouted.

My hands balled into fists at my side. "Then perhaps I should clarify some things for you, my dear. First, I am not as naïve as you to believe that person is innocent. Second, I do to others as they have done to me. Do you think anyone cared that _I _was once an innocent person suffering?"

Darcy eyes started to fill with tears and she blinked to keep them at bay.

Ignoring her tears I continued. "No they didn't! Not one bloody person cared!" I walked closer to her until our faces where only inches apart. "And I don't care about any of them!"

Darcy reached out and gently placed one hand on my cheek. "That isn't true Erik." She whispered. "Someone does care."

I reached out and pulled Darcy into my embrace crushing her against me  
.There is no way to describe the feelings that arose in me at that moment. All I knew is that I wanted to hold her in my arms forever.

"Oh Darcy!" I whispered into her hair. "Tell me you mean it."

She half laughed and half cried into my shirt. "Yes! I mean it, Erik! I care very much!"

I placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I think you should rest. I'll tend to, uh, the boy."

At that moment I was willing to do anything to make her happy.

Darcy gave me a quick squeeze. "Thank you. Will you walk me to my room?"

"Sure."

I left Darcy at her door and went to tend to the boy just as I promised.  
I stopped a few feet away from him and took a few minutes to study him. He did seem fairly banged up but that was his own fault.  
When I thought back on it I did remember him following me above ground a few hours before and that I had purposely led him in the direction of the trap door to be rid of him. What I hadn't counted on was this happening!

I quietly approached him from the side. "What is your name?"

The boy visibly jumped at the sound of my voice and he kept his eyes averted when he answered. "Roland Delmas, Sir. May I be so bold as to inquire of your name, Sir?"

I came and stood in front of him. "I am Erik."

He looked up at me with dark somber eyes. "I am so sorry for intruding upon your hospitality.

I shook my head. "It matters not…You are here now. Well we better have a look at your ankle."

I knelt down to examine it though at a glance it appeared broken. My suspicion was confirmed; it was broken.  
I cursed under my breath for that meant he would be here longer than I cared for.

I rose up and wiped my hands on my cape. "It is broken." I informed him.

Roland let out a low groan and threw his hands up in exasperation. "I always managed to get myself into a scrape."

"Yes I'm sure." I agreed. "Well I shall get a stint for you ankle."

Once again I made a trip to the kitchen. All of the day's commotion was starting to wear on me. My steps were slower and I felt tiredness spread to every part of my body. It served as a reminder of why I choose solitude. The less people, the less confusion and chaos.

I quickly finished with Roland and led him to the library where there was a sofa for him to sleep on.

Roland thanked me again for my help and bade me goodnight.

After that I retired to my room where I could carefully think things through and plan how to best be rid of my unwanted guest.

* * *

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. iF

Please review and share with me your thoughts and any suggestions. :)


	21. Nightmares

Thanks to all you've reviewed. I do not own the Phantom of the opera, though I wish desperately that I did!

I should also mention that Anna is still very much a part of the story even though she was not mentioned in the last chapter.

Explanation: That chapter took place during the latter part of the day and Anna was asleep. But she is very much there!

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Darcy's POV

------------------

I crept into the dark bedroom as quietly as possible so as not to disturb Anna who was still asleep. Quietly and almost by instinct, for my mind was not in this room, I made my across until I reached the nightstand. There I found a candle and quickly lit it.

The light was barely enough to see by and shadows shifted and distorted with each flicker of the candle's flame.

I watched fascinated by the different shapes the shadows took for my Erik was like them. Dark and mysterious. My heart pounded harder at the thought of him and my body still burned from his tight embrace. My lips slowly formed a smile. I knew he felt more than just friendship for me, his jealous rage and later his verbal expressions confirmed that. And I had managed to convey that I felt likewise. But what bothered me was the fact that Erik did not yet seem as if he could handle a relationship. How could he? Erik thought I had betrayed him at the first chance I had and that pained me deeply because he had absolutely no trust, no faith, in me.

Once again I succumb to the doubt as to whether or not I was strong enough to stay with such a man. And it was with those thoughts that I fell asleep.

And then the nightmare began.

-----

_I stood, alone, in the middle of the large opera stage which was lit by dozens of candelabras. The empty seats stretched out before me like a sea of red velvet. In my hand I held a single red thorn less rose. I raised it to my nose and inhaled deeply. Erik! For some reason it's delightful smell filled my head with thoughts of Erik. And then his familiar voice called out to me . "Darcy!" _

_I glanced around but saw no one, so I answered back. "Yes, my love? Where are you? Please show yourself."_

"_I can not!" his voice sounded sorrowful, angry and perhaps defeated._

"_Why can you not show yourself? I am not Christine! I know who you are! There is no need to hide from me, my love." I knew I sounded desperate. I was desperate. Erik was not making sense._

"_It is not enough!" _

_I ran forward, for the voice seem to come from one of the seats. "what is not enough? Explain Erik! I do not comprehend your words!"_

_As if my magic, he materialized in a row between the seats. My heart pounded with relief. But then I noticed something was not right. His mouth was pulled down into an exaggerated frown and his eye sockets were hollow! He was looking at me but I did not see the familiar glow of his unusual eyes! _

_I stifled a gasp of horror. _

"_it is too late!" The mournful figure cried out. "It is not enough! Not enough!" _

"_What is not enough?" I screamed! "Tell me, please! Please!"_

_He placed his hand on his heart. "That feeling which you call love! It is not enough! It is over now. The music is dead. It shall never be heard again."_

_I stared at Erik, horrified! "No!" _

_The masked shadow nodded his head sadly. "Look!" He removed his hand and pulled back his cape to reveal his white shirt underneath. Blood! A blood stain was forming on his shirt, near his heart. I watched in shock as the red stain grew and spread. I opened my mouth to scream but no sound came out. _

"_I am dying!" He moaned, clasping against a seat. " It's finally over! My music of the night is over!"_

_Some sort of choking scream sounded somewhere. I then realized it was coming from me. I had to move! I had to be near him. Somehow I forced my feet to move. Tears now blurred my vision so I had to feel my way out._

_By the time I reached Erik, he was lying on the floor, his breathing coming in gasps._

_I gently lifted his head and removed his mask.. I gazed at his deformed face. A face that had once repulsed me, but that I know loved. "You are very wrong!" I sobbed. "I love you more than life itself! Please Erik! You must hear me!" _

_Slowly I bent my head down until my lips brushed softly against his. "Please don't leave me!" I whispered. "I need you!" _

_I felt his fingers brush against my cheek. "Darcy, I..I love you!" he choked out. And then he was still._

"_No! No! No!" I cried , shaking him. "You can not do this to me! You can not!"_

_---_

Gradually I felt myself being shaken and I fought against the unseen hand.

"Darcy! It's me! Wake up!" A sweet childish voices said. _Anna?_

I rubbed my eyes and wiped away the tears the lingered. The room was still dark.

"Anna?"

"Yes, it's me. You've had a bad dream."

_Yes, that was it. It was all just one horrible nightmare._

Anna pulled me close as if I were the child. "Are you okay, Darcy?"

I buried my face into the small shoulder. "I'm fine."

Or at least that's what I told Anna. But I wasn't fine. I needed to see Erik, to be sure he was alive and well and here him speak to me.

"Anna, I shall be back in a few minutes."

I got of the bed and put on my dressing gown. Outside my room there were a few candles lit so it wasn't hard to find my way to Erik's room. I could still see it clearly, especially the coffin with Erik lying mask less inside.

I stopped by his door, unsure if he would be awake or my presence wanted. But I had to see him. I knew I wouldn't be able to calm down until I saw him. With my mind made up, I tapped determinately on the door.

"Erik, it is I, Darcy. Please open." _No answer. _I pressed my ear against the door and listened. _Silence. _

My heart rate accelerated. "Erik! Are you in there?" _More knocking. _I tried the doorknob. It was locked.

My knocking now became more persistent, almost to the point of pounding.

"Erik! Erik! Open up please! Please!"

Suddenly the door moved beneath my hand and I felt something grip my arm and haul me in. A scream caught in my throat. I was then spun around and pushed against something hard. I found myself face to face with Erik. He was dressed in a plain white shirt which was partially open and black pants.

Erik was angry and standing entirely too close. He leaned forward, his mouth near my ear. His breath hot against my neck.

"Would you care to explain why have you been pounding on my door and screaming like a mad woman?"

With him this close, I could hardly think. "I, uh, I…" Was all I could manage to say.

Erik sighed impatiently. "Well? You better have a good reason."

I did have a good reason, if only I could get it out. I swallowed and tried again. "I…I came to check, uh, to be sure you were okay."

Until this point I had been looking at my hands, but now I looked up to see Erik staring at me as if I were some animal who had suddenly developed the ability to speak. I looked down again.

"I had a dream about you, or rather a nightmare.

Erik reached out and ever so slightly brushed his thumb against my cheek. "Continue."

Repeating that horrible nightmare to Erik left me shivering. Erik paled and his eyes blazed. He looked to be in acute pain, that made me fell worse instead of the relief I sought.

"Yes, well you can see that I am still alive and quite well." Erik said, his voice cold.

I stared at him in confusion. I had just reveal my deep concern so this was the last reaction I expected to get from him.

"Did you not understand my reason for coming?" I questioned.

Erik stood straighter. "I understood you perfectly. And I thank you, Mademoiselle, for your concern."

I could not believe he was behaving like this! I felt like a fool for coming here and that just fueled my anger.

"Oh! You insufferable man! You-you are not worthy my feelings or anyone's feelings for that matter! You deserve whatever fate deals you, and that includes rotting alone in this dark hole you call home!"

Erik just stared at me for a moment, then threw his head back and laughed.

I was caught of guard. "Wha-what are you laughing at?"

He gave a wickedly dashing smile, which would have left me breathless had I not been angry. "You, my dear."

My hands itched to slap his face. "I don't find anything about me humorous!"

"Ah, but I do!" He replied easily.

"You!" was all I managed to choke out in my rage. I took a deep breath and tried again. "You are the vilest of men!" With that I turned and head for the door, only to be caught by my wrist and hauled back. Erik pulled me close against him, our faces inches apart.

I felt myself drawn into the golden debts of his beautiful eyes, and I couldn't remember why I was angry.

"You are the most courageous and amazing woman I know." He whispered., his expression serious. " And you belong to me! You are mine and I am yours!"

Those words caused a tide of emotions to sweep across and overwhelm me, puling me in deeper and deeper. I couldn't think straight, I could hardly stand for that matter. Thankfully Erik's arms supported me.

He searched my face for a moment before speaking. "Well, do you agree with me or not?"

"Yes I do!" I cried happily. "I agree with you completely!"

* * *

Finally! An update after what seems like forever. I had a bit of writers block…I hope it doesn't show in this chapter. And this story is by no means over…I have some huge twists ahead…already planned out, in my head.

Please review and let me know what you think. Hopefully you all have enjoyed this chapter.


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